


A Belated Homecoming

by thankskelley



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-07 09:53:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15905925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thankskelley/pseuds/thankskelley
Summary: “I’ve never been friends with a muggle-born before,” Lance sighed, leaning against a pillar and looking out into the courtyard. “Surprisingly, my parents don’t approve,” he gave Keith a sly smirk, “that just makes this all the cooler. Like Romeo and Juliet.”Keith almost choked, “what?”“That’s how the story goes, right?” Lance asked, “their parents didn’t want them hanging out, but they became really good mates anyway. I don’t know, I never read it.”“Um, that’s not quite right,” he sighed. This boy had been in his life a grand total of five minutes, and Keith was fairly certain he would be the death of him.





	1. Rose Cold

Year One  
[KEITH] 

The cold had turned Keith a charming shade of pink. 

From the top of his ears to the very tips of his fingers, he was coloured a pale rose. His breath hung in the air as he sighed, and he swore his tears were turning to icicles on his cheeks. He used his sleeve to dry his face, what am I doing here? he asked himself. That question had grown more and more frequent in Keith’s mind over the past two months. From the very first day, the second that godforsaken hat had told him his house, it was clear Keith didn’t belong. Hogwarts was for the magical, the special. Keith was just a kid who wanted to go home. 

He fiddled with the letter, folding and unfolding it. Scanning the words over and over, each time making himself feel worse. 'We’re all so proud of you, Keith,' it said, 'I mean—a wizard? How cool is that?', Shiro’s excited words failed to give him any kind of comfort, instead it just drove home the point that this, whatever this was, wasn’t for people like Keith. Lotor had made that perfectly clear. Oh God, he could feel the tears coming again. 

Truth was, Keith was just your average boy from the south. His dad was a fire-fighter, his mum worked in politics, until last summer there had been nothing remotely magical about his life. And, if he was perfectly honest, he liked it better that way. He had his parents, a brother that he actually liked and probably the best dog in the world. When the letter arrived, Keith had put on a smile. He didn’t want to seem ungrateful, not when Shiro was so happy, or when his parents had put in so much effort to prepare him. He was...what did the other kids call it? A muggle. A muggle through and through. 

Except he wasn’t, that was the problem. 

“Oh,” came a voice from behind him. He jumped, and dried his tears as quick as he could. Great, he thought, just great. “Hello... I, uh, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” He turned, and then he stopped. 

The boy was beautiful, there was no way to get around that. His eyes were the most striking thing, vivid and blue as the scarf he was wearing. He gave an attempt at a lopsided smile, and Keith thought he might keel over. Scratch everything he just said, his smile was the most striking thing. His smile and his eyes and the cute way he stood, the way his mess of brown hair was swept of his forehead. It was all striking. It then occurred to Keith that he was gawking. 

“Oh,” Keith said, but it came out too dreamily. He sounded like an idiot. “Oh! Oh, no. It’s, yeah, it’s all...” okay, stammering. Not a great start. “...it’s cool.” 

The boy looked more amused than anything, the light playfully dancing in the blue of his eyes. “Good,” he laughed, plopping himself down next to Keith. Next to Keith. “Thanks,” he swung his bag in front of it, clutching a letter in his left hand, “you okay?” 

“Uh,” Keith wanted to tell him the truth. Curse his happy blue eyes. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine, thanks.” 

“Kogane, right? I’m Lance, I think I’m in your herbology class,” he offered him a hand, Keith shook it. “don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re bloody awful. I’m fairly sure you traumatised that Slav kid.” 

Keith allowed himself a small smile, “he had it coming. One more word about alternate universes and I would have wrung his scrawny neck for good measure.” He gave Lance another once-over, trying to look more casual about it this time. “And that’s easy for you to say, Ravenclaw. Don’t you guys exceed at, like, everything?” 

Lance sighed dramatically, “if only. I’m from a long line of Gryffindors, imagine the scandal when the youngest McClain is sorted into the house for the smart, and proceeds to be the dumbest kid there.” 

McClain. Huh, that wrung a bell. “That’s not fair, I mean the sorting hat can’t be wrong, can he? Is it a he? Hats don’t have genders... sorry, I’m getting off track. I’m just saying, if the sorting hat put you in Ravenclaw, he probably had a reason for doing it. Even if it’s not obvious at first.” 

Lance considered this, “huh. I guess,” he grinned and Keith felt his heart skip a beat. “You’re pretty smart for a Gryffindor. What are you doing here anyway?” 

Keith’s breath hitched in his throat, he had known this was coming. “Uh, emotional letter,” he says, gesturing to this folded paper in his hand. 

“Really? Me too! Though, probably a different kind of emotional.” Keith watched as the light around Lance dimmed, “parents are great, aren’t they?” 

“What did it say?” Keith asked before he could stop himself, “sorry, that’s not my business. You don’t have--” 

“No, it’s cool,” Lance smiled, it was like he didn’t stop smiling. All of his expressions were different varieties of the same smile, this one was much sadder than the ones that had come before it. “Thing is, my parents were reluctant to send me to Hogwarts. I, uh, I made a mistake earlier this year. My family’s reputation was almost destroyed. These letters, they’re a reminder, I suppose.” It was clear he didn’t believe that. 

“I... I’m sorry, Lance.” 

Lance gave a deflated chuckle, “why? It’s my fault. I know better now.” There was an audible period at the end of his sentence. They were done talking about this. 

“If it makes you feel any better, it’s not like I belong here anymore than you,” Lance looked to him, eyes wide in confusion. “Muggle born,” Keith admitted, gesturing to himself, “had no clue magic even existed till a couple of months ago.” 

Lance’s blue eyes twinkled, and Keith gulped, desperately trying to keep himself from blushing. It didn’t help that Lance leaned in towards him, “woah,” he whispered. “Really? That’s so cool!” 

Keith shrugged, and looked anywhere but Lance. “Not really, unless you find council estates and comprehensive schools ‘cool’.” Lance grinned. The sparkly, hopeful grin. A small smile found its way onto Keith’s lips before he could stop it. 

“I’ve never been friends with a muggle-born before,” he sighed, leaning against a pillar and looking out into the courtyard. “Surprisingly, my parents don’t approve,” he gave Keith a sly smirk, “that just makes this all the cooler. Like Romeo and Juliet.” 

Keith almost choked, “what?” 

“That’s how the story goes, right?” Lance asked, “their parents didn’t want them hanging out, but they became really good mates anyway. I don’t know, I never read it.” 

“Um, that’s not quite right,” he sighed. This boy had been in his life a grand total of five minutes, and Keith was fairly certain he would be the death of him. 

Lance took a deep breath, and rubbed his hands together. “I’m going inside before we get caught, and/or catch hypothermia. You should think about coming in, too. You don’t want to freeze.” 

Keith watched as Lance got up, “maybe I do.” 

“Well, then maybe I don’t want to freeze,” Lance sighed. But he was smiling, Keith flushed. He unwrapped the blue and bronze scarf from around his neck, and knelt next to Keith. Their faces were close, and despite the cold, Keith’s cheeks felt like they were on fire. He watched as Lance maneuvered his way around him, tying the scarf in a loose knot around his neck. It was soft, warm. It smelt like woodsmoke and Ovaltine. Not how Keith thought it would smell, not that he thought about it. Nope. Lance stood up and beamed at him, “suits you.” 

“Thanks,” Keith replied, but it was muffled by the scarf. 

Lance began to walk in the direction of the Great Hall, and Keith knew he should follow. But he just wanted to sit a little while longer. 

“See you around, Kogane,” Lance called. 

“Call me Keith,” Keith called back. 

“Keith,” he said. That was the last thing he said before leaving, and Keith could tell he was smiling while he said it.


	2. Agony Aunt Owls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you think if I was in love with Allura this would be easier?” Lance asked Red, who cocked his head to one side. “I wish I didn’t have to do this, make things needlessly complicated.” 
> 
> “That’s not what you’re doing,” came a familiar voice from the doorway. 
> 
> “God?” 
> 
> “Good one,” Allura replied, making her way across the room to him. Even by the way she walked, you would have been able to tell she was older. Allura was a third year, but had taken Lance under her wing when she noticed him struggling to revise in the common room almost two years ago. Lance drew his knees into his chest as she sat in an armchair next to him. She eyed Red, he glared back. “You’re lucky the common room is empty, we don’t want him to attack anyone again.”

Year Two  
[LANCE] 

The owl was a bad listener. 

“Come on, Red,” Lance cooed as Red frantically flapped his way across the room. He knew he shouldn’t have taken him to the common room. Every time Lance tried to confide in him, Red started flipping out. Flipping out and flapping away. “Right, well, it’s getting hard not to take this as an insult now, buddy.” 

Red did not respond. Primarily because he was an owl. 

Lance slumped against the bookshelf, he just needed someone to talk to. Was that too much to ask? ‘You could talk to your real, HUMAN friends’. Lance had ruled out Hunk and Allura as an option, he knew they’d be supportive, but was his first ever crush on a real person. It was a big deal. His big deal. And it wasn’t like he could talk to his family about it. 

It would be nice if he could talk to Keith about this. He knocked his head back and closed his eyes, Keith. Keith, as in his first friend, as in his first crush. As in ‘call me Keith’ Kogane. He thought back to when they first met, Keith’s cheeks were pink because of the cold. He remembered thinking how cute Keith was in his scarf, and how cute he was when he tried to give it back the next day. Every time they studied together, when Lance leaned in a little too close. Keith was pretty when he was embarrassed. Keith was pretty, period. 

“Do you think if I was in love with Allura this would be easier?” he asked Red, who cocked his head to one side. “I wish I didn’t have to do this, make things needlessly complicated.” 

“That’s not what you’re doing,” came a familiar voice from the doorway. 

“God?” 

“Good one,” Allura replied, making her way across the room to him. Even by the way she walked, you would have been able to tell she was older. Allura was a third year, but had taken Lance under her wing when she noticed him struggling to revise in the common room almost two years ago. Lance drew his knees into his chest as she sat in an armchair next to him. She eyed Red, he glared back. “You’re lucky the common room is empty, we don’t want him to attack anyone again.” 

“He’s a sweetheart, really,” Lance said, Red replied with a hiss. 

“And who says you’re making things difficult?” 

“My parents?” 

“Your parents are the ones making things difficult. You shouldn’t let them dictate who you are,” Allura stated, like it was that simple. 

“I know, I’m trying.” 

“Besides, it would be more complicated if you were in love with me. I’m in love with one girl,” Allura sighed, she was smiling. 

“Romelle?” Lance guessed, grinning. 

“Romelle,” Allura said dreamily. 

“Good thing she totally likes you too,” Lance teased, Allura punched him on the arm. She didn’t deny it though. 

“Get out of here, you have herbology,” she ordered. Lance felt his heart sink. Just a few months ago, Lance would have gladly sat through hours of Coran’s plant rambles just to be near Keith. But his daydreaming meant his grades in the subject has taken quite the hit. He knew it was only a matter of time before his parents would be notified. He shuddered. 

“What’s the point? I’m failing. Badly,” he sighed, “right now, I can’t tell which of us is dumber, that class or me.” At first, he meant it to be a joke, but Allura wasn’t laughing. Then he realised there was nothing funny about the way he said it. He sounded pathetic, self-pitying. He hated that. 

“Don’t say stuff like that, Lance. For my benefit at least,” Allura looked genuinely concerned, the same way she had looked at him when he told her what his parents said when he came out. He hated that look, it made him feel guilty. “You’re one of the smartest people I know, you know why?” 

Lance shrugged. 

“Because you know yourself, Lance. You know yourself, and you know others. You know how to use words to make people feel things, you create. So you’re not smart in the traditional sense, what does that even mean? I’d rather be friends with someone who can lift me up when I’m down than someone who’s getting straight A’s.” There was sincerity dripping from her words, and Lance didn’t quite know how to respond. He did love Allura, he loved her in a different way to Keith. He loved how comfortable he was around her, he loved the way they talked to each other. He loved doing her hair, giving her manicures. He loved eating popcorn on the sofa with her, watching bad muggle movies. She was his best friend, and she cared so much about him. He couldn’t help but wonder why. 

He threw his arms around her, taking in everything. These were the moment that made him most happy. “Thanks,” he said. 

“It’s the truth,” Allura replied. She smiled, “now go, you’re late. I’ll take care of Red.” 

 

Lance tried to force himself to listen, but his attention kept drifting. Snow had begun to fall outside, he watched his breath on the window. It would be hard to play quidditch later, but he liked the challenge. He watched the way his partner scribbled their notes, her i’s dotted with little circles. He saw how Professor Coran’s eyes lit up when he got talking about Venomous Tentacula. You’d think with a name like that, they’d be a little more interesting. He’d have to ask Allura about this later, he was way behind. 

He heard a faint murmur, followed by a rumble of stifled snickers. At the centre was Lotor, smugly lapping up the attention. Lance rolled his eyes. His parents had never been on good terms with the Galra, something they had in common with Lance. The Galra bloodline, like his own, was a long and pure one. They were famous Slytherins and their youngest son, Lotor, continued the tradition. Lance had hoped they could be friends, considering how much they had in common. Lotor had laughed in his face. The boy was spoiled and conceited, he chose his friends based on status—Lance didn’t want to be like that. 

Generally, this sort of behaviour was to be expected of Lotor. He was just that kind of person. Lance felt it was worth no more than an eyeroll, it was the attention Lotor was so desperate for. So he didn’t see the punch coming. 

It was a blur of limbs and bodies, red and green. There was an awful crack, and a dramatic gasp from the rest of the class. Lance stood up, trying to get a better view of the scene. There was Keith, panting and angry, a look in his eye that Lance had never witnessed before. Lotor lay groaning, his stool knocked to the ground. Blood leaked through his fingers. Lance felt a little sick. 

Keith shook his raw fist, he said something to Lotor that Lance couldn’t quite make out. 

“That doesn’t mean you have to break my nose, mudblood!” Lotor wailed, “you’re a psychopath!” 

“Okay, boys, everyone,” Professor Coran tried to break up the ring of onlookers, “we’re all sitting down and shutting up, fights are exciting, yes, yes. Out of my way, poor Mr. Galra is making it very clear he needs assistance.” 

Lance looked to Keith, begging his grey eyes catch his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that happened,,  
> i want to explore lance's insecurity a little more later on, so the next few chapters will be taking place in their second year, i hope you enjoyed!  
> comments and kudos are greatly appreciated, you can find me on twitter @thankskelley  
> (keith's dog is called blue)


	3. Texting, Except Not As Convenient

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'R u at the quidditch game??'
> 
> He waited a moment, and the ink slowly but surely began to seep into the paper until it was no longer visible. A minute passed, and slowly an answer began to materialise. 
> 
> 'Texting in detention? Why, that’s quite rebellious of you Keith.'
> 
> Keith grinned. Like him, Pidge was muggle-born, they bonded over knowledge of mundane things that the purebloods didn’t understand. 
> 
> 'And to answer your question, yes. Lance is playing well, if you were wondering.'

[KEITH] 

It was a stupid joke, hardly even clever. 

Lotor had made a dumb remark and Keith had granted him a dumb reaction. He couldn’t stop himself, in that moment it was the only way to get everything inside his head out in the open. It wasn’t his first time punching anyone, it used to be regular occurrence back in his old school. Kids made fun of him like kids make fun of everything. Until he wasn’t just another face in the crowd to point and laugh at. They had a reason to tease him relentlessly, to gang up on him as he walked home. To treat him as though he were sub-human. 

“Shame they can’t talk,” Lotor had whispered, gesturing to the pictures of the Venomous Tentacula. He was brimming with barely contained glee, “they would get on great with Keith, they even come from the same place!” You didn’t have to be Einstein to work it out, Keith was a mudblood. Mud being the operative word. Lotor seemed to hold that against him as if he had chosen to come to this stupid, elitist school. The anger, the humiliation he felt was so similar to the feeling of being a ten-year-old kid looking up at burly teenagers, the helplessness as they knocked him off his feet, and just kept going until he learned to punch back. He didn’t choose to be... him, he didn’t choose any of this. 

So he swung. And he broke the kid’s nose. 

Yes, he regretted it. That joke was hardly worth an eyeroll, as Lance would say. But in a blink, he was back on the playground, cheek pressed against the tarmac. The pain of it, the embarrassment. How all the kids he knew, kids he considered to be his friends, just walked on by. Maybe they thought he deserved it. That’s what he got for being gay. 

And this is where he ended up, a four-hour detention with Professor Coran. Fun, fun, fun. 

He was missing a quidditch match for this. Lance’s quidditch match. He was torturing himself with thoughts of Lance on his broom, Lance throwing the Quaffle, Lance beaming up into the stands after a victory. Agh, this was not helping. He thought back to the look on Lance’s face after he punched Lotor. His blue eyes widening in confusion, hell, even fear. Keith couldn’t bring himself to look directly at him. God, he was such a coward. 

He unfolded the piece of paper Pidge had given him for situations just like this. They had an identical one, the two sheets magically connected. If they wrote something on theirs, it would appear on his, and vice versa. It was like texting, only much less convenient and practical. His eyes darted to Professor Coran, who was softly dozing in his chair. He took his quill and began to scribble a message. 

'R u at the quidditch game??'

He waited a moment, and the ink slowly but surely began to seep into the paper until it was no longer visible. A minute passed, and slowly an answer began to materialise. 

'Texting in detention? Why, that’s quite rebellious of you Keith.'

Keith grinned. Like him, Pidge was muggle-born, they bonded over knowledge of mundane things that the purebloods didn’t understand. 

'And to answer your question, yes. Lance is playing well, if you were wondering.'

Keith blushed, and began to scribble his reply. 

'I WAS NOT WONDERING!!!! and what kind of nerd brings a quill to a quidditch game lol'

'Goodbye, Keith.'

'wait wait wait!! Im sorry! dont u want to know what happened with lotor??'

There was no reply for a couple of minutes, Keith began to worry. 

'…I am intrigued. What led you, Kogane, master of cool and calm, to break the nose of a privileged pureblood?'

Keith snorted, Pidge was among the few who could make him laugh. The Holts were good friends with the Koganes, so Pidge and Keith essentially grew up together. The fact that they both went to Hogwarts was just one of those things. They were a first year, but smarter than he could ever hope to be. Despite their obvious intellect, they had been sorted into Slytherin—and they seemed right at home there. The two had a lot in common, but the difference in confidence was astounding. They’d been around for four months, and yet they were already so much more comfortable at Hogwarts than Keith had ever been. Maybe because they loved magic in a way he couldn’t understand. 

'he made a stupid mudblood joke, wasnt worth it. I didnt mean to break his nose, but the sad thing is, once it’s healed he’ll probably look all rugged and cute.'

'You are a disaster gay. Speaking of which, Lance just got the Quaffle through one of the hoops. Ravenclaw is winning.'

Keith smiled. 

'is he grinning up at the stands?'

'...Yes, and it is very pretty. Now I have to go because I’m starting to look a little bit conspicuous writing notes to myself in the middle of a quidditch game. See you in a bit.'

'bye pidge.'

'Bye, Kogane.'

Now, to get through another three hours. Easy peasy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love pidge a lot.  
> this chapter wasn't as eventful,, but keith and pidge are so much fun to write so i hope you enjoyed!  
> comments and kudos are always lovely!  
> (and pidge is nonbinary in this au, hopefully that doesn't make it too confusing to read)


	4. A Quick Chat With Demon Spawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That’s sweet,” Lance remarked. 
> 
> “’S rich coming from you.” 
> 
> “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
> 
> “Hold your fire, McClain. Wasn’t an insult, s’just you and Keith. It’s sweet. You guys are sweet.” 
> 
> A blush spread over Lance’s cheeks like wildfire. “What? We’re, ha, we’re not together. You know that right?” 
> 
> Pidge made eye contact with him for the first time since they met. Their eyes were a pretty, inquisitive brown. They seemed to be doubting every word he said. Their eyebrows shot up, and they smiled. “No, no. I know. Two friends can be sweet too, you know.”

[LANCE] 

“Great job, man!” Hunk squealed, he picked Lance up and squeezed him hard enough to cause just a little bit of internal bleeding. 

“Hunk... ribs...” Lance coughed, “I kind of need them...” 

“Oh, oh sorry!” Hunk placed Lance down carefully and grinned. “But, I mean, you’re a second year! And you practically saved the game!” 

“Definitely,” Romelle agreed, Lance hadn’t noticed her, mainly because she was standing behind Hunk. Despite being a year his senior, the guy was twice her size. Even though they were opposites in appearance, the two seemed to be kindred spirits. Both Hufflepuffs with a passion for good food and a distaste for danger. “I find quidditch horrifically boring, and I still found the majority of that brain-achingly slow, but your bits were really good!” 

Lance’s mouth quirked, “thanks, Romelle.” 

She nodded dutifully, “you’re welcome.” She was cute, no denying that. She was dainty, small with pale skin and long blonde hair. Everything that came out of her mouth was funny in this weird, quirky way. Lance could see why Allura liked her so much. “Anyways, is Allura around?” 

There we go, Lance thought. “No, she’s owl-sitting for me right now. And, like you, she thinks quidditch is pointless.” 

Romelle smiled, her wide eyes sparkling, “she has taste.” 

“Hello,” came a small voice from behind Hunk. It was this androgynous looking kid that Lance felt he recognised. They were short, half Hunk’s size, with huge circular glasses obscuring half their face. “You guys know Keith, right?” 

Oh! This was the one that was always hanging around Keith! Pip? Penny? P... 

“I’m Pidge,” they said, offering up a tiny sparrow hand, Lance took it. “Holt, Pidge Holt. Saw your game, McClain—impressive stuff,” they grinned, “but Keith is in detention right now, and I just wanted to know which class he’s in. I want to go pick him up.” 

“What is he? A toddler?” Lance smirked. 

Pidge shrugged, “essentially.” 

He wanted to like Pidge, even though he was kind of in awe of them. They couldn’t be any older than twelve, but they seemed so smart. They had this light about them, the confidence oozing out of every step. 

“But yeah, what class?” 

“Oh, sorry,” Lance had drifted away, he was getting pretty good at that. “We were in herbology, Professor Coran.” 

“Cool beans, thanks a lot.” They patted Lance’s shoulder, “I can see why he likes you.” 

Lance’s insides turned a warm purple, “he likes me?” 

“Well, you’re friends, aren’t you?” Pidge looked amused, “and count that as an achievement. Keith Kogane is a hard nut to crack.” 

They turned on their heel to leave, but Lance followed. “Uh, have you talked to him? Is he okay?” 

“You don’t usually ask the puncher if he's okay in these situations,” Pidge said, “but yeah, he’s fine. Bored, but he’ll survive.” They walked alongside each other, heading towards the school build, Lance turned to Romelle and Hunk. 

“I’ll see you guys in a bit!” He called, Hunk gave an exaggerated thumbs up. 

“Your friends?” Pidge asked. 

“Yeah.” 

They chuckled, “Mr. Popular.” 

“I don’t know if I would say that,” there was an unscratchable itch on the back of Lance’s head, he felt a need to impress this kid. “Just Hunk, Romelle and Allura, really.” 

“If you have more than one friend, you’re popular in my book.” 

He laughed, “you and Keith must be close.” 

“Been friends since I learned to walk,” they shrugged, “pure luck that we both ended up at Hogwarts. I think it would be a lot harder for me here without Keith, and I like to think I’m helping him too.” 

“That’s sweet,” Lance remarked. 

“’S rich coming from you.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Hold your fire, McClain. Wasn’t an insult, s’just you and Keith. It’s sweet. You guys are sweet.” 

A blush spread over Lance’s cheeks like wildfire. “What? We’re, ha, we’re not together. You know that right?” 

Pidge made eye contact with him for the first time since they met. Their eyes were a pretty, inquisitive brown. They seemed to be doubting every word he said. Their eyebrows shot up, and they smiled. “No, no. I know. Two friends can be sweet too, you know.” 

For whatever reason, he felt there was another meaning to what they were saying. “I don’t know,” Lance looked at the ground. “We’re not even that close.” 

“Hmm,” Pidge hummed, “you’ve abandoned two out of your three friends to follow someone you’ve never talked to before, just because they’re going to see someone in detention you’re ‘not that close to’. Every time I bring him up you blush and stammer like your brain has stopped being able to process words, and you’re still here despite the fact I’ve definitely made you extremely uncomfortable.” 

Lance gawked for a second, then he blushed. “I, uh.” 

“Mhm,” Pidge was reveling in this, “I’m not trying to be cruel, I’m just trying to help you realise that your ‘not that close’ is probably the closest Keith’s ever been to another guy his age.” 

“But,” Lance was trying to process what was being said, “why is that?” 

Pidge shrugged, “ask him. You guys should talk more, instead of staring soulfully into one another's eyes.” 

He abandoned the stammering, it wasn’t getting him anywhere. He tried glaring at them, “are you always like this?” 

They grinned, completely unfazed, “yep, it’s a wonder I don’t have more friends.” 

Lance realised that, under different circumstances, he would actually find Pidge pretty funny. They were smart, charismatic, and unapologetically weird. He kind of wanted to be their friend. 

“I’m going back to my friends,” he said, indignantly. “Who don’t interrogate me.” 

“That’s understandable.” Pidge shrugged, “I’ll tell Keith you said hi!” 

Lance stormed back down the hill, defeated. His friends would be down there, maybe even his quidditch team. They were nice enough people, but Lance didn’t have that much in common with them. They were all about tactics, strategy. Lance couldn't even pay attention during the team talks. 

As he got closer, he was able to pick out Romelle and Hunk from the crowd, talking to this girl on the Ravenclaw team—Acxa? He began to pick up the pace, when he smacked straight into someone's shoulder. 

“Oh, sorry.” 

“Lance?” 

He paused, and looked at the face of the person for the first time. A girl, young with a thin face and glasses with rims as blue as her eyes. Her short hair curled around her chin, and her sun-kissed skin was speckled with freckles. 

“Veronica?” 

Her lips were slightly parted, her eyes scouring his face. They weren’t cold, but the blue lacked the same depth of Lance’s own. His were curious, hers were analytical. He looked at the red and gold scarf hanging loosely off her shoulders. Oh, yeah. 

“Lance,” she reached to touch his arm, but he flinched away. The gesture was crueler than he’d intended, but he couldn’t have helped it. For a split second, he saw what looked to be pain on her face. A small part of him was sorry. “I, uh,” she cleared her throat, “I saw your game. You were brilliant.” 

“Thanks,” she was avoiding his eyes. Despite being three years his senior, she’d never looked smaller. 

“The Gryffindor team could really use you,” she offered. 

“Well, it’s not like I chose my team, now is it?" He spat back, “I didn’t choose a lot of things you lot have been punishing me for.” 

Veronica looked at her shoes, “I... I’m sorry, Lance. They just, they don’t understand.” 

“I’m not just upset with them! I’m upset with you!” Lance was surprised with himself, he wasn’t one to let his emotions spill over in that way. He wasn’t aware just how much he’d bottled up and now, seeing Veronica, it all came gushing out. “You don’t get to pat yourself on the back, okay? You stood and did nothing while mum and dad...” his voice broke, he wasn’t going to cry. He was not going to cry. “Look, I expected that of them, they’ve always been like that. I didn’t want some kind of coming out party! But I thought you would stick with me. I didn’t want to feel completely alone, I was ten! I was confused and I wanted help! Now, I can see how deluded I was.” 

Veronica stood, stunned. Her eyes glistened, and he was worried that now she was going to cry. “Lance, I--” 

“V, my friends are waiting. And, I’m sorry, but I really don’t want to talk to you right now.” Lance was surprised at how confident he sounded. 

He didn’t give her time to respond, he walked away. Leaving Veronica behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lance and pidge's dynamic is so funny to me.  
> next chapter we'll be moving on to their third year. i'm considering writing a short part from pidge or hunk's perspective, but either way i'm excited for what's coming!  
> leave a comment or kudos if u feel like it, it's always appreciated!!  
> twitter: @thankskelley


	5. A Corrupt Game of Top Trumps

Year Three  
[LANCE] 

It was Lance’s fifth bad hand, and he suspected the card dealer had something to do with it. 

“Come on, Pidge!” He cried in protest, “you have to admit you’re cheating. No way can I get Gibbis five times in a row!” 

“Lance,” they hissed, “you’re not supposed to tell us what you got.” 

When Pidge suggested the all go to Hog’s Head for some butterbeers and a round of cards, he thought they had meant real cards. Like black jack. He was not expecting Doctor Who Top Trumps. 

He’d never watched Doctor Who before, much to Pidge and Keith’s horror, so all of the aliens on the cards looked, well, alien to him. Gibbis was one of the nastiest, a mouse-looking humanoid creature with worse stats than the handbots! Every round they’d played, Pidge had won, and every round they played, Pidge had dealt. Lance was beginning to get suspicious. 

“Can we play something else?” Allura complained, “I thought we were going to play something more sophisticated, like poker.” 

“Well, most of the people here don’t know how to play poker,” Keith pointed out. 

“That’s true,” Hunk agreed. 

“Yes, but most of the people here have never watched Doctor Who either,” Allura replied. 

Hunk nodded again, “also true.” 

“You don’t have to know the show to play Top Trumps, although it shows a severe lapse in taste if you haven’t watched Doctor Who, it’s a simple game.” Pidge picked up her first card, “Strength, ninety-eight.” 

“I swear to God, Holt,” Lance growled, “if I find out you have the T-Rex again...” 

“What would a T-Rex even be doing in Doctor Who?” Allura exclaimed, “isn’t it a show about space?” 

“Yes,” Keith began, “but there’s an episode called ‘Dinosaurs on a Spaceship’ where--” 

“You know what? I don’t want to know.” Allura let out a deep sigh, “Romelle, honey, I’m going to get another butterbeer, do you want anything?” 

“I’ll come with you,” Romelle beamed. 

Lance faked gagging. 

“Oh, be quiet, McClain,” Allura grinned as she and her girlfriend got up, “just because you’re sad and alone.” Lance stuck a tongue out at her, and she did the same. 

“But seriously, though,” he complained, looking at the others gathered around the table. “How am I one of the last ones left single? I mean, Hunk has Shay--” Hunk blushed a deep cherry, “Allura and Romelle are off being the most disgustingly in-love couple I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.” 

“Easy there, Grinch,” Pidge smirked, collecting in the cards. 

“And you, Pidge, you’re not even in the running for an S.O. right now-- which is totally cool and I support you--” 

“Thank you.” 

“--so, really, it’s just me and Keith left,” Lance paused. He’d really backed himself into a corner now. 

Keith coughed, “I don’t know, I’m not really much competition.” 

“Got that right,” Pidge added. 

Lance eyed the two of them suspiciously, “what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Keith is... infatuated with someone right now.” Pidge said, Keith whacked them over the head, which was met with an annoyed ‘ow!’ 

“Ignore them.” 

“No, no, it’s cool.” Lance forced a smile, he was begging his voice not to crack. Casual, just stay casual. “Who is it?” 

“I’d really,” Keith met Lance’s eyes, “I’d really rather not say.” 

“That’s cool, buddy,” Hunk said, gently. “You can talk to us whenever you like, though.” 

Relief flooded Keith’s violet grey eyes as he looked to Hunk, breaking off the eye contact with Lance. “Thanks, Hunk.” 

It had been over a year since Lance had adopted Keith and Pidge into his friendship group. Pidge was an instant hit, which was to be expected. The kid was smart and funny and always had something interesting to say. Keith took a little longer to adjust, mainly just sectioning himself off with Pidge when the group hung out together. But Hunk, being the wonderful person that he was, managed to get through to him. They began to talk to one another often, Hunk always asking about Keith’s life as a muggleborn, but he was never insensitive. Hunk’s family didn’t have the same wealth that Lance’s did, they lived in a small cottage up north. But their magic was powerful all the same. Lance had spent the past few Christmases with them, since he’d been somewhat ostracized by his parents. The house was crowded, Hunk had a lot of siblings, but it was also cosy in a way that Lance hadn’t experienced. His house was large, but it wasn’t held together by the same love that Hunk’s was. It was cold, it wasn’t stable. Lance would always choose Hunk’s home over his own. 

“Hey, Keith?” Called a voice from the door, “Keith Kogane?” 

Keith gave the group a confused look, “that’s me,” he told the guy. 

The man was balding, and what was left of his hair was pure white. His skin was comparable to thin paper, you could see the inner workings of his body through it. He wore a purple and black cloak, and overall, he carried a sense of mystery with him. Lance thought he recognised him. “Oh, hi Ulaz.” 

“Keith, a letter was just delivered for you,” Ulaz handed him the letter, his cold expression unwavering. 

“What?” Keith looked up at him, “but we aren’t supposed to be getting letters until next week,” Ulaz nodded. 

“I’m not sure what the contents are, but I’m happy to wait outside if you need me.” 

“Oh,” Keith looked at the letter. It was perfectly ordinary, eggshell white with small, somewhat scruffy handwriting on the front. “No, no, that’s okay,” he said absent-mindedly. 

“The Headmaster said to contact him if anything unfortunate has happened at home.” Ulaz said, stony faced. 

“Unfortunate?” Keith asked. 

“Professor Alfor didn’t elaborate.” 

Ulaz gave Keith a long look, and then took his leave. 

“Well, that was weird,” Lance remarked, “is everything okay?” 

“I, well, I think so.” Doubt was seeping through Keith’s words, “I can’t think of anything that could have happened.” 

“Okay,” Lance didn’t want to press, “do you want us to give you some privacy?” 

“No, I’ll go.” Keith gave them a half-hearted smile. 

Once he was out the door, Lance looked to Pidge. “That can’t be good,” they muttered. “Do you reckon I should go out and check on him?” 

“Give it a second,” Hunk suggested. 

Everything was silent for just a moment, then the wall of the Hog’s Head exploded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woah something just happened  
> also i feel like i know a little bit too much about doctor who top trumps. im projecting onto keith and pidge.  
> leave a comment and kudos if u enjoyed!!  
> twitter:@thankskelley


	6. Burning the Bridge Home

[PIDGE] 

Pidge wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, at first. 

They were looking at Lance, and thinking. They were thinking about Keith, about what could be in that letter. If they were honest, they were a little afraid too. Afraid of what that letter would mean. 

Then there was an earsplitting crash, and Pidge’s ears began ringing. 

They watched the chaos unfold, the rubble and the screams, and it felt something like being underwater. Everything sounded so far away, and they couldn’t process the events as fast as they were happening. People were screaming, someone had been knocked out, the roof of the building would no doubt collapse soon enough. They looked to Lance and Hunk who were on their feet. Lance was yelling something. 

“Pidge!” He cried, “Pidge, what do we do?” 

They looked at him, dazed. His blue eyes were more panicked than they’d ever seen them. There was another crash as a chunk of the roof fell into the floorboards. 

“We have to get out,” Pidge muttered, and then they snapped back to reality. “Oh, hell. Okay, Lance?” 

“Yeah?” He looked relieved that they’d woken up. 

“You and Hunk need to get everyone out. It’s a matter of time until this place collapses,” Lance’s eyes weren’t any less afraid, but there was this glint of determination in them now. “You... you’ll go see that Keith’s okay, right?” 

“Yeah, don’t worry,” Pidge sighed, “it’ll be okay. Everyone will get out. We’ll... we’ll be fine.” 

Lance sighed, “thanks.” 

Pidge’s mouth quirked, “I was talking to myself.” 

Lance flashed a half-hearted grin, and set to work, trying to get people out. Pidge allowed themselves a moment to breathe, their ears were still ringing like crazy, but if they could say calm it would be fine. It would be fine. 

They hopped over a crack in the floorboards, and a few small flames licking at the beams of the building. They kept going at a comfortable pace, but the floor would be weak and falling into a basement was the last thing they needed. Now they saw what a lie all those big Hollywood blockbusters were. Cool FBI agents walking away from an exploding building all nonchalantly, in reality Pidge was barely able to stand—walking in a straight line was proving to be a challenge. 

They stepped through the massive new whole in the side of Hog’s Head, and saw a whole new kind of chaos. 

There was fire everywhere, gorging on whole trees and buildings. It surrounded everything with a grey cloud of smoke that made Pidge cough, the closer they looked, the more destruction they saw. There wasn’t even much around to destroy, Hog’s Head was fairly isolated. But after this, it was clear this land would be barren. 

And at the centre of it all was Keith. 

“Keith!” Pidge screamed, they had to scream. It was the only way to be heard over the roaring of the flames and the ringing in their ears. Christ, everything was so loud. Keith still paid no attention, spelling ‘incendio’ and ‘bombarda maxima’ like his life depended on it. Two spells he’d perfected despite being a third year. “Keith what the HELL do you think you’re doing?” 

Lance stepped out of Hog’s Head, “is he okay?” he called over to Pidge. 

They let out a breath, “I don’t know, I have to talk to him.” 

“What?” Lance cried, “Pidge, you can’t! It’s too dangerous! We’ll just contact someone from Hogwarts and get them to help.” 

“And what will happen to Keith? He’ll get expelled! I... I need to figure out what’s happened. I can’t stay here if he leaves.” 

Lance looked to Keith, the orange of the flames dancing in his eyes. “I feel the same,” he said, almost too quietly to be heard. “Please make sure he’s safe, you understand him better than I do.” 

That turned Pidge’s head, they knew it would hurt Lance to have to admit that. They knew how hard he’d been trying with Keith. 

“Don’t do anything stupid, Pidge,” Lance warned. 

Pidge had to laugh, “I’m literally walking through fire my idiot best friend created to make sure he doesn’t get himself killed. I think that just about crosses into the realm of stupidity.” 

That earned a roll of the eyes, “shut up.” 

They took a step, the flames were several feet away but Pidge was already sweating. It may have been the nerves, but the heat was so intense they couldn’t help but wince every time they inched closer. 

“Keith, please!” They yelled, “you’re hurting people, you’re going to get hurt!” 

No reply. 

“Keith, just talk to us! To me!” Pidge felt a little bit like crying, and they’d never before felt more their age. They were smart, they knew that, so a lot of the time they’d forget they weren’t even fourteen yet. But right now, they felt younger than they ever had. What the hell could they do? They were just a kid. 

“Pidge, get out of the way!” Keith cried, and Pidge’s head snapped up, and they heard the dry crack branch of a nearby tree losing a branch. They leaped out of the way, which prompted a long coughing fit. This was going well. “What are you doing?” He demanded. 

“ME? What are YOU doing?” They managed between coughs, “what the hell happened?” 

“I...” he looked around him with scared eyes, he looked so small. “I don’t know, Jesus Christ.” 

“It’s okay, you just... we have to get you out of here.” 

“I don’t want to go back,” he buried his face in his hands, “I can’t go back, Pidge.” 

“We can talk about this once you’re safe.” 

“I...” 

“Please, Keith,” came Lance’s voice from behind them. 

“Lance?” 

“Look, I have no clue what’s happening right now,” Lance began, “and I’m really bloody scared. But I’m not upset with you, none of us are. Because we know that we’ll understand.” 

“You don’t understand, though,” Keith argued. “I don’t have anywhere anymore! I just want to go home—but I...” that was when Keith started sobbing, it was like an explosion of all the emotions he’d been bottling up for years. “I don’t want to be here! I hate it! I can’t... I can’t deal with it, I don’t belong here like you guys do!” 

“That’s okay, Keith,” Lance said, his voice so gentle but still audible over the noise, “you don’t have to stay here, you can go home if you--” 

“But I can’t!” Keith cried, his voice hoarse, “I... I can’t. I don’t want to be there without... I don’t have anywhere, Lance.” 

“You have us!” Lance exclaimed, there was so much worry and care in his voice, the words came out drenched in an affection Pidge couldn’t describe. “You have people who care about you! Pidge, Hunk, your family, me.” 

Pidge hated the fact that it was Lance saying all this, and not them. 

 

They sat with Keith outside Professor Alfor’s office, they hadn’t talked since Keith had abandoned his bout of destruction. He came to Pidge and Lance, tears in his eyes, he kept apologising. It broke Pidge’s heart. 

They still hadn’t asked what the letter had said, they didn’t want to pry. But they were worried, and part of them felt like they had a right to know. If something had happened at home, to Keith’s family, they would be hurt too. God, they felt so selfish thinking that. But Shiro was like a brother to them, Keith’s parents like their aunt and uncle. They wanted to know everything was okay, they wanted someone to tell them everything was okay. 

Pidge was always the one telling everyone else that. 

“Pidge,” Keith began, his voice was raw from the smoke and crying. “I put you in danger, and I didn’t listen to you, I’m an idiot. And I’m sorry.” 

“Please stop apologising.” 

“But what I did...” 

“Yeah, it was selfish, but maybe if you talked to me about why you did it—I don’t know—I could help? If not, at least it would be out in the open and not bottled up inside you,” Pidge offered. “Give me something, please, I feel so helpless right now.” 

“You helped me earlier.” 

Pidge scoffed, “I was getting nowhere until Lance showed up.” They were glad Keith didn’t try to deny it. 

“The letter sent me into a bit of a spiral,” Keith took a deep breath. “Mum and dad are dead.” 

Pidge felt their stomach empty out, “what?” 

“Fire,” Keith shrugged, “which you could have probably guessed.” He kept his gaze on the floor, his voice was wobbling. “I can’t go home. I don’t want to go home if they’re not there. But I... I don’t want to be here anymore. I can’t deal with it. I can’t, Pidge. Everything is just going up in flames and I wanted to take the world with me.” 

Pidge placed a small hand on Keith’s, “I’m so sorry, Keith. This is...” 

“I know, I think I’ve run through every possible way to describe this in my head,” Keith sighed. “Most are obscenities.” 

“You can cry if you want,” Pidge told him, “there’s no shame in that.” 

“I think I might be all cried out.” 

“Is there anything I can do?” 

“Stay with me, I guess.” 

So that’s what they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was pretty eventful,,  
> it's a little more emotional than the ones that have come before it, and there is more angst to come, so apologies in advance!  
> i hope you are enjoying,, comments and kudos are always lovely to receive!  
> twitter: @thankskelley


	7. The French Toast Ultimatum

[KEITH] 

Keith had been home for three months, and he hated it. 

There was this unscratchable itch at the back of his head. He hated to admit it, but he thought he might actually miss Hogwarts. 

Sure, he didn’t miss the majority of the people, the lessons and he was doing just fine without the early mornings. But what he did miss was the feeling of being a part of something. And yeah, he missed his friends. He felt like he’d dropped out of some loop, like every day happened, ended and began, and he was just watching from the outside. Christ, he was so bored. He began spending his days in bed, in the dark, waiting for the next month of limbo to pass. 

He hadn’t been expelled, it was more of a suspension situation. Thankfully, Professor Alfor was pretty understanding. He gave him a four-month suspension, and once he got back he’d have a year of rebuilding the Hog’s Head to look forward to. But his actions had been put down to grief, and he was grateful for that. Of course, the Galra family were not pleased. Alfor responded by telling them that if Lotor could spell ‘bombarda maxima’ half as powerfully, he’d reconsider. 

So Keith had gone home, he went to the funeral, did all the things an orphan was supposed to do. Huh, he was an orphan now. He didn’t feel like an orphan. Maybe that was because he had Shiro and Adam. Adam, Shiro’s boyfriend, had been spending a considerable amount of time at their house. Introducing them to these weird black comedies and making french toast. Adam made really good french toast. 

Shiro hadn’t cried at the funeral, but he did cry when Keith got home. He hugged him for a really long time, and kept telling him he would look after him. That made Keith feel worse, it made him feel like a burden. 

They didn’t talk much about the death, Shiro didn’t want to talk about it and Keith didn’t want to know. He just knew it was fire, in Keith’s head, it just went down to the two of them trying to be heroes. Mum and dad, always trying to save each other. That’s how he wanted to remember them. 

“Knock, knock,” came Shiro’s voice from the door. 

“Either actually knock or don’t come in at all.” 

“Jesus Christ, it’s messy in here,” Shiro said, disgusted. “Why is the floor sticky?” 

“Don’t ask if you don’t want the answer.” 

“Duly noted,” Keith heard Shiro sigh, and wrapped the duvet tighter around him. “You look like a sad caterpillar.” 

“I am a sad caterpillar, and a tired one too, so please leave me alone.” 

“You’ve been sleeping for the last thirty-six hours, how are you tired?” 

Keith let out an annoyed huff, “I’m a teenager, aren’t I?” 

“Ah,” there was a small chuckle, “well, Adam’s made french toast, just to let you know.” 

“Can you get him to bring it up?” 

“Nope,” Shiro said, popping the ‘p’. “If you want french toast, you’re going to have to come downstairs.” 

“So it’s an ultimatum.” 

Shiro barked out a laugh, “do you even know what that means?” 

Keith ignored him, “well, I’m happy to go without, thank you Shiro.” 

“Okay, sure,” Keith could practically hear him shrugging, he had such a ‘that’s none of my business’ tone. “But he’s made it how you like it, with brown bread and cinnamon.” 

Keith’s stomach betrayed him, letting out a low growl. He hadn’t eaten anything, bar some popping candy he found on his floor, for the past day. Shiro burst out laughing, and Keith sat up. His hair was a mess, and he could feel the weight of the bags under his eyes, but at least it reflected how he was feeling internally. 

“Don’t you feel bad?” Keith asked, “acting so happy right now?” 

He didn’t mean to upset his brother, it was a genuine question, but he saw Shiro’s smile fade a little. It was hardly noticeable, but Keith still picked up on it. 

“I think that I might as well be happy while I can manage it,” Shiro shrugged, “I know I’ll be sad later, but mum and dad wouldn’t want me to feel guilty for experiencing something good. And I have a lot of reasons to be happy right now, I have a great boyfriend who’s made breakfast and it putting on another episode of that comedy with that missing girl,” Keith pulled a face, “and my little brother is home for the first time in forever. And he’s going to have breakfast with us.” 

Keith let out a hearty sigh, “well I can’t turn you down now, can I?” 

Shiro grinned, “that’s the plan.” 

“Right, but can we watch something good this time?” Keith begged, “that show is so... weird.” 

“Adam had made you breakfast, the least you can do is indulge him by watching that strange show that he’s obsessed with.” 

Keith followed his brother down the stairs, it took him a minute to realise he was smiling. 

 

Keith had spent the day with Adam and Shiro, and had a surprisingly good time. The show picked up, the main character accidently murdered the detective, and Adam showed him how to bake muffins. It did not go well, when he took the batch out somehow the ones in the back were burned and the ones at the front were raw. Adam’s were nice enough though, so they sat and ate muffins and watched ‘The Great British Bake-off’ with Shiro and Blue. A lot of baking in one day. 

He got upstairs and collapsed into the warmth of his bed. He was exhausted, despite having sat and eaten treats all day. And guilt was gnawing at his gut. He felt terrible for having been happy, God that sounded stupid. He wondered if he’d ever feel that it was okay for him to be happy. Now that his parents were gone, it seemed like the world should stop, and he should be caught in a never-ending depression. But the world didn’t stop, and in the same way, he still found happiness in things. Like spending time with his brother, or baking with Adam (even if the end result was traumatising). He knew his parents would want him to be happy, he knew that they’d want his life to move on, but the guilt didn’t subside. 

That’s when he felt a warmth from his jean pocket. He reached in and found one of those magic paper things Pidge had conjured up. When he unfolded it, he saw a message in scratchy, all-caps handwriting. 

‘Hey Keith, it’s Lance! Just checking in on you, how are you doing?’ 

‘hey lance,, yeah im okay considering. i just had a great british bake off marathon with my brother and his bf.’ 

‘Wow, that’s the best way to spend your day.’ 

Keith grinned, he missed talking to Lance, chatting to him him like this made that all the more obvious. There was a pang in his chest. 

‘how is evry1?’ 

‘Your text speak is awful. I’m glad I don’t have your number.’ 

‘nah, u’d die for my number. u love this.’ 

‘Yes, because you know I have a passion for incorrect grammar.’ 

‘u sound so much like pidge rn’ 

‘That’s a compliment, Pidge is the smartest person we know.’ 

‘well—’ 

Keith let out a cough as his dog, Blue, jumped onto his chest. “Gerroff me,” he choked out. He saw he’d drawn a scribble over the page. Just great, that’ll make sense. Blue huffed and leaped onto his pillow, making herself at home there. Keith scratched her behind the ear. He looked to the paper, Lance had written back. 

‘Um, what?’ 

‘my dog jumped on me’ 

‘DOG??’ 

‘..yes’ 

‘I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU NEVER TOLD ME YOU HAD A DOG!! THIS IS A TRAVESTY!!! I DON’T KNOW IF I CAN TRUST YOU ANYMORE’ 

‘im sorry??’ 

‘What is its name? Is it adorable?? I love dogs.’ 

‘her name is blue and she is a right pain in the neck.’ 

‘YOU TAKE THAT BACK’ 

‘she just sat on my chest tho’ 

‘She blessed you is what she did.’ 

Keith let out an unattractive snort. He’d needed a distraction, and Lance had proved to be... very distracting. 

‘I’ve decided I’m going to adopt Blue, she can live with me and Red.’ 

‘whos red??’ 

‘My owl.’ 

‘didnt u say befor that ur owl hates u?’ 

‘...Maybe.’ 

‘haHA’ 

‘No you don’t understand. He’s a MONSTER. He attacked someone in the common room!’ 

‘why r u bringing ur owl into the common room?’ 

‘...’ 

‘yea, that’s whAT I THOUGHT.’ 

‘I was trying to teach him tricks!’ 

‘OWLS R SUPPOSSED TO STAY IN THE OWLERY MCCLAIN’ 

‘But then we’ll never develop a bond!!’ 

‘u wanted to have a bonding moment with ur owl and it attacked someone instead. that’s amazing.’ 

‘I hate you.’ 

‘ha.’ 

‘Ah, damn. Allura pointed out that I have to revise for a herbology test we have tomorrow. I have to go, it was nice chatting to you though. Herbology is a lot quieter without you!’ 

‘bye lance, thanks for talking to me, i feel a lot better now.’ 

And it was true, he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woah, we finally get to meet shiro! and some soft klance texting bc i feel like i've been a little heavy on the angst recently. this concludes their third year, next chapter will pick up in their fourth year, probably a bit more texting at some point bc it's so fun to write lmao.  
> leave a comment and kudos if u feel like it!  
> twitter: @thankskelley  
> (people hc lance as the one with bad text speak, but it has to be keith)


	8. Lance Has It BAD

Year Four  
[LANCE] 

Here’s a tip, never accept a Christmas dinner invite from your overbearing, stressful, biphobic family. 

Lance really shouldn't even be here, every other Hogwarts kid was in lessons, but his family was just that powerful. If they wanted to talk to their son, they'd talk to their son. It was that simple.

He looked at his leek and potato soup, miserably. He longed for the perfectly cooked goose that the Garretts would no doubt tucking into at some point. The cranberry sauce, the mash and peas, even the brussel sprouts (which Lance still thought tasted like farts). Christmas was just a week off, but the McClain family were acting like Santa had been murdered and the whole holiday had been cancelled.

They all sat around the table. Lance had forgotten how long that table was, sitting next to his mother at the head, the other end looked miles away. God, everything about this house was so intimidating, and it seemed purposefully so. Like the McClain’s wanted to spark fear in their guests, by showcasing how aggressively fancy everything was. He hadn’t missed that. 

“Lance, dear,” his mother sighed. She still spoke to him like he was a child, a child who kept making the same mistakes and she was growing bored of having to scold him. “Your soup will go cold.” 

She was an incredibly elegant woman, every part of her seemed so deliberate and planned. She was never shocked or caught off guard, her face was always a mask of calm. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders in graceful waves, and her skin was a shade darker than Lance’s own. Her years had added to her overall wise demeanor, the wrinkles on her face were marks of experience. The creases surrounding her dark eyes just added to her cold, calculative stare. 

“I’m not massively hungry, mother.” She insisted on being called mother, not mama or mum. She’d always discouraged him when he called her mummy as a child. 

“There won’t be seconds, Lance,” she said, coldly. 

“I’m aware.” 

“You eat now or not at all,” she reiterated. 

“I know,” Lance replied. He was sick of her treating him like he was stupid, she had done it for so long, he’d started to believe it himself. 

Veronica hadn’t taken her eyes of Lance since he’d arrived. Her look was almost apologetic, but it had this hint of pity that made Lance angry. Everyone here treated him like he needed to be babied, he felt so goddamn pathetic. He fixed her with a hard glare, he didn’t need this right now. 

Why did he even accept this invitation? Did he think they would have changed? Maybe a part of him hoped that, seeing as this is the first time they’d even interacted for years, they would apologise. They would have come to terms with what he was. He could see now how stupid that was. 

“So, Lance,” came his father’s deep, steady voice from the other end of the table. His father was the dictionary definition of smooth, his voice, his skin, his false smile show-casing his too-white teeth. Every part of him was alluring at first, but became superficial if you looked too closely, “any girlfriends or boyfriends, yet?” 

Lance dropped his spoon in his soup, a clang rung out amongst the thick silence. “Really, dad?” His father hadn’t enforced the same rule as his mother, mainly because he hadn’t been around to do it. 

“What, isn’t that what you bisexuals do?” He spat out the word bisexual in a similar way to how someone would talk about some dog feces that they had discovered on the bottom of their shoe. “Go through girlfriends and boyfriends and then spit them out when you get bored.” 

“Oh, yes,” Lance agreed, “because we’re all greedy and promiscuous, right? Is that what you’ve read on Parenting.net?” 

“Lance,” said his mother, in the same exhausted tone she always used. “You’re fourteen, now. You should know that you can’t just be whatever you want, there are people out there that will want to change you. Or harm you. Which, in turn, hurts your family. Truly, you can’t be selfish enough to do that to us, that’s not the boy we raised.” 

Lance felt like screaming, why did they always do this? “No, it isn’t. The boy you raised is an insecure, self-repressed mess. And, sure, thanks to you that’ll always be a part of me, but I’m more than that. Despite your best efforts.” 

“Christ, Lance,” his mother rubbed her temples. “No need to be quite so dramatic.” 

“We’re just trying to protect you,” his father added. 

“And, rather conveniently, saving your reputation in the process.” 

His father’s eye twitched, “well, would it look like? McClain’s pride ourselves on honouring tradition. You’re the first Ravenclaw in our recorded history, which we’ve tried to put behind us, but your disregard for our image is reckless. And, looking at your grades, so is your disregard for your studies.” 

Lance swallowed a sob, “I am trying.” 

“You make all these choices, and are shocked when you face the consequences.” 

“Because being bisexual is a choice?” 

“Yes!” His father yelled, slamming a fist down on the table. 

“I’m a Ravenclaw, dad. Do you think I sat down one day, and decided to show up my family by being sorted into the wrong house? Do you think I spent my time plotting, anticipating the day where I got sorted into a house I don’t even belong in to spite you?” 

The hall was silent, his entire family looking at him. Waiting. 

“No, I didn’t choose to be a Ravenclaw. In the same way, I didn’t choose to be bisexual. Honestly, I spent a long time trying to change it, as if it were a choice I had made. But I can’t, and I don’t think I really want to. And it’s not about you, which may be hard to believe. It’s about me, it’s my thing. And I’m allowed to have that. It would have been nice if you had wanted to be a part of it. But I’m okay, and I’m happy right now,” he took a breath, and looked down the table. Veronica was the only one smiling. 

His mother coughed, “I can see this was a mistake, you refuse to see sense.” 

He looked to his father, who shared a similar expression. The rest of his family stayed silent, staring at their soup. The tension was palpable. 

“I agree,” Lance stood up, the chair legs screeched against the tiled floor. “I’m going to my room, this has been... yeah.” 

The wrinkles on his father’s forehead deepened, but he tried not to take notice. What he did take notice of was Veronica, who stood up as well. 

“Veronica, my dear,” their mother warned, “what exactly do you think you’re doing? The meal is not over.” 

“I’m going with Lance, mother,” she announced, confidently. “I think at least one member of our family should be with him right now, and it seems I’m the only one willing to do so.” 

Lance felt his heart warm, and when he met her eyes, she gave him a genuine, caring smile. 

“If you follow Lance, you can expect the same treatment he’ll receive,” their father said. 

“Of course, this family isn’t one to discriminate,” she shrugged. Lance had to stifle his snort. 

“Veronica, you are a bright young woman. A brave Gryffindor with an undoubtedly exciting future,” father continued, “do not make a decision you will regret.” 

“What are you going to do?” Veronica glared at him, “cut off my allowance? I’m seventeen, I’m leaving Hogwarts, I don’t need you as much as you think. Neither does Lance.” 

Their father snarled, actually audibly snarled. 

“Of course,” their mother sighed. “You can make your own choices, but keep in mind that everything we’ve done was in the best interest of the family name. It’s simply self-preservation, don’t make us out to be some villains of your make-believe game. We’re looking out for ourselves and for you, and if you refuse to see that, then maybe you are better off on your own.” 

“Thank you, mother,” Veronica said, “I wish you the best.” 

“We expect you out of the house by tomorrow,” she added, “no point wasting time with false sentimentality.” 

Veronica almost smirked, “wouldn’t expect anything less.” 

And with that, she took Lance’s arm and dragged him out the door, leaving the family in the cold silence Lance had grown so accustomed to. 

 

Lance was packing, with Veronica sat on his bed. He hadn’t brought much; a blue baseball T-shirt, some jeans and a Christmas jumper. 

“That felt so good!” Veronica exclaimed, her golden syrup eyes alive with energy and excitement. “Dad’s face when I told him we didn’t need him, I thought he might actually blow a fuse.” 

Lance smiled, folding his jumper and placing it neatly among the pants and socks. “I really thought they might have changed their tune, shows you how much I know.” 

“You don’t need them,” Veronica insisted, “you’re a smart, brave, kind kid. You could have gone into any single one of those houses and I wouldn’t have been surprised.” 

“Thanks, I...” 

Veronica cut him off with a finger, “not done,” she said, “you could have gone into any one of those houses. Yeah, sure. But they don’t define who you are, okay? You can be a Ravenclaw and be brave as hell, you know? I’m a Gryffindor, and I’m one of the kindest people I know--” 

Lance gave her a shove. 

“--but you get it, right? Like you said, it’s not all you are. Like how you’re bisexual, but that’s not it. You’re not just ‘Lance, that bisexual guy’. Don’t get so caught up in fitting that requirement, you don’t have to be wise and intellectual and whatever to be a Ravenclaw.” 

Lance thought back to when he’d first met Keith, how he’d said that even if it wasn’t obvious at first, there would be a reason for him being in Ravenclaw. He still hadn’t worked out what that reason was, but he took comfort in knowing it was there. He wondered about Keith, how he was doing. It had been around this time last year when Keith’s parents had died, just before Christmas. Lance knew how close Keith had been to his family, and when he had come back, he’d noticed he was different. He was more detached, thoughtful. He was zoning out a lot. 

He was wondering if he’d want to text, they’d given each other their numbers so they could actually text instead of use those magical pieces of paper. Keith’s handwriting was awful, anyway, so it was always a struggle to read. 

For a while, Lance had thought he might have moved on from Keith. Because his breath had stopped catching whenever he entered a room, he didn’t blush whenever he looked his way. Then he realised that he’d just become so comfortable around him, he barely noticed it. He was still in love with Keith, but it was a different kind of love to the preteen crush. The all-consuming, fluttering heartbeat nervousness. Now, it was a longing to close, to eliminate all space between them. It was a warmth that he felt at the very centre of his chest, and laughter ringing out when he whispers a joke that only they would get. The feeling that, of all the people in the world, Keith was the focal point. Keith was clear. Lance understood Keith in a way he had never experienced, and he hoped was mutual. 

Veronica snapped her fingers in front of Lance’s face, “oi, what’s going on? What are you thinking?” 

“Nothing, I’m just excited to get out of here and back to school.” 

“Me too, and the Yule Ball is coming up which...” 

Lance drifted off, back to thinking of a boy with a dumb face and dumb eyes and a dumb mullet. 

Christ, he had it bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lance reconnecting with veronica while realising how much he likes keith is my favourite song.  
> i'm really enjoying writing this, and the response has been so lovely, ty to everyone who has supported the fic!  
> leave a comment or kudos if u feel like it!  
> twitter: @thankskelley


	9. Eighties Dance Movies and Hors D'oeurves

[LANCE] 

He looked weird in a suit. 

He looked at himself in the mirror, tugging at his jacket sleeves and fiddling with his buttons. He worried his lip and messed with his hair a little more. 

“Lance, please,” Allura groaned, “you look great, handsome even!” 

“Easy for you to say,” he turned to his friend, who was lying on his bed, “you look like a literal fairy tale princess.” 

She did too, a neat pink tea dress, the skirt reaching her upper shin. She was wearing a pretty circlet and a matching necklace, they made her look almost ethereal. Her white hair flowed in graceful waves to her waist. It must be so easy, being that stunning. 

“That’s very sweet, but I have to. Have you seen my girlfriend?” 

Lance snorted, “if you’re not going to be helpful, then you can leave.” 

“Are you kidding me? After I went to all that work to break the spell on the boys’ dormitories.” 

“Yeah,” Lance gave her a quizzical look, “how are you not in trouble for that, again?” 

Allura shrugged, “fairy-tale princesses are above the law.” 

“I hate you, so much,” she tackled him in a hug. 

“No, you don’t,” she teased. 

“Hey, hey! You’re going to crease my suit,” she let him go, “I really think grey would have been a better choice.” 

“Lance,” Allura exhaled, "navy is definitely your colour. It matches your eyes.” Lance examined himself more closely in the mirror. “If you don’t believe me, go ask literally anyone else. I’m getting bored.” 

“This is my first Yule Ball,” Lance said, defensively, “I’m allowed to be panicky, weren’t you?” 

“Yes, a little.” Allura admitted, “but this is borderline obsessive!” 

“I just... I want to look good.” 

“It’s Keith, isn’t it?” Allura grinned, “oh, you’re in deep, McClain.” 

Lance glanced at her, and her face was as pink as her dress with barely contained glee. “Yes, I have a massive crush on the mullet, happy?” 

“Ecstatic, now please hurry,” Allura began to slide on her heels, “I’m meeting Romelle soon.” 

“The cufflinks look cheap, don’t they?” 

Allura let out a guttural groan, “we’re leaving,” she announced. Sometimes Allura reminded him so much of Veronica, he had to laugh. 

 

Lance felt so out of place amongst the crowd of well-dressed students. Allura pulled on his arm as the zigzagged through the groups of people. The hall was lit up with blue and white lights, the floor magicked to look like ice. It was all so... Hogwarts. It was so grand, lavish and so obviously not Lance. 

“Damn,” Allura cursed, “where are they?” 

“This is like some weird game of Where’s Wally,” Lance chuckled, “except, you know, real life.” 

Allura looked at him with her turquoise eyes, “thanks for clearing that up, Lance. For a moment I thought you were implying we were all fictional characters in a goddamn kid’s book!” 

Lance blinked at her. 

“Sorry, oh god, I’m so sorry Lance.” She buried her face in her hands, “I’m just, Romelle isn’t so great with crowds, I’m worried about her.” 

He put a hand on her shoulder, “no, Allura it’s fine. It’s cute that your so concerned about her.” 

“We’ve been together for over a year and I feel like, I dunno, she’s going to get bored and leave me. I mean, we’re fifteen, we’re supposed to be on the market, you know? It’s like, we’re expected to be on and off with all these different people. But I... I don’t want to do that, I love where we are right now.” 

Lance gave her a warm smile, “Allura, think about it, has Romelle shown any signs of wanting to end things.” 

“I guess not.” 

“And has she said anything to you?” 

Allura looked away, “no.” 

“Then you have no reason to believe she wants to end it with you,” Lance told her, reassuringly. “Plus, there’s no harm in telling her how happy you are in the relationship, right? She might be going through the same worries as you.” 

Allura placed a hand on Lance’s, “how did you get so smart, McClain?” 

“I have a super smart friend, I think she’s rubbed off on me.” Allura smiled. 

“Allura!” Romelle called from across the hall, she was wearing a light blue and green 50s style dress with a wide skirt. Her hair was done up in space buns, and there was silver glitter on her cheekbones, she looked adorable. She raced across the room to her girlfriend, and they hugged each other like they were afraid if letting go. There was no space between their bodies, Romelle’s face buried in Allura’s shoulder, Allura’s hand on Romelle’s hair. They fit so well together, Lance realised how much he wanted that. 

Then he saw who had been with Romelle. Pidge, Hunk, Shay and Keith. 

Oh God, Keith. 

He was wearing a maroon suit with a black shirt and a red tie. His hair was held back and tied with a hair band into a short low ponytail. His hand was rubbing the skin on the back of his neck. His black trousers highlighted how long his legs were, something Lance hadn’t noticed before. He was chatting nervously to Pidge, hid grey-violet eyes scanning the Great Hall. He looked so alive, and Lance noticed how badly he wanted to kiss him. How badly he wanted to eliminate all space between them, like Romelle and Allura had done. He was fiddling with his cufflinks when he looked up to see Lance, their eyes connecting for one crackling, electric moment. 

 

[KEITH] 

God save Keith’s little gay soul. 

Pidge was in the middle of talking about how much of the budget went into this, and how unnecessary it was. But Keith was long gone, lost in the blue eyes of the prettiest boy he’d ever seen. 

He was wearing a navy suit with a waistcoat and a black tie. His head were in his pocket, and he was staring at Keith like he was trying to place his face. Keith felt his cheeks heat up a little, God. He was going to go as red as his suit if he didn’t calm down. He kept reaching for the back of his neck, he wasn’t used to having his hair up and he wasn’t sure how much he liked it, but Romelle and Hunk had assured him it looked cute. 

“Keith, you’re not listening, are you?” Pidge asked, their voice deadpan. 

“Not even a little bit,” Keith muttered. 

Pidge chuckled, “well, you’re making your crush pretty obvious with the heart-eyes,” they told him. He jerked his gaze away from Lance, embarrassed. “That is to say he doesn’t already know, you’re not exactly subtle.” 

“You think he knows?” 

“Well, he’d have to be pretty dense not to notice,” Pidge shrugged, “but hey, apparently love does some weird things to people.” 

Keith kept looking from Pidge to Lance, “anyways,” Pidge continued, ”why’d you even invite me? Third years aren’t supposed to be here, right?” 

“Unless they’re invited by a fourth year or someone older,” Keith corrected, “and I need your emotional support, you’re the only friend I have, bar Lance, who isn’t in a relationship. And asking relationship advice from a person who’s in a relationship is pretty much like talking to a wall.” 

“So you decided to ask the aro?” 

“Sure, you might not be into love, but you know people. You know how they think,” Keith pointed to his temple. “If I was to ask Allura or Hunk they’d just spout some Disney quote, ‘follow your heart’ or ‘love finds a way’ or something. I don’t know. I need real advice.” 

Pidge let out a grunt of a laugh, “okay, makes sense. But for this to work, you have to promise to do what I tell you.” 

Keith shrugged, “I promise.” 

“You gotta ask him to dance.” 

“I shouldn’t have promised.” 

Pidge gave him a look, “come on, Kogane. You know as well as me that dancing is innately romantic, I mean, it’s inspired a lot of films,” they began to count them off on their fingers, “Dirty Dancing, Footloose, Flashdance—wait, is there romance in Flashdance?” 

“I dunno, never saw it.” 

“You know, the one with the chair and she pulls the thing and all the water comes down on top of her?” 

“...No?” Pidge gave him a frustrated sigh. 

“Well, whatever, it’s romantic. And the fact that I’m having to goad you into this, of all people, is not a good sign.” 

“Dancing may be romantic,” Keith admitted, “but I can’t do it.” 

“No one can!” Pidge cried, throwing their hands up in the air, “what, you think everyone here knows how to waltz and you’re the weirdo for being out of the loop? Keith, if anyone here did know how to waltz, odds are they’re the weirdo.” 

They made a fair point. 

“Look, you brought me here for my advice, I could be in my room right now. With my cat. I passed up cat time for you, Keith! The least you could do is listen to me!” 

“Okay, fine,” Keith groaned, “please don’t eat all the hors d’oeuvres while I’m gone.” 

“I’m not making any promises. Except for those weird looking ones shaped like rats, you can have those ones.” 

Keith gave her a closed mouth smile, and took a deep breath. He was going to ask Lance to dance. He could make a joke about how Lance even rhymes with dance. No, no that’s stupid. Don’t do that. Just a dude, going to dance with his dude friend. Guy friend? Boyfriend, wait no. Not that. Bro friend? Right, okay. He may have been panicking just a little bit. If he just cleared his head, stopped his panicking and carried on breathing, he’d be fine. 

He stopped, Lance was in front of him, looking slightly bemused. He looked so goddamn stunning in that suit, it wasn’t fair. How was everyone else managing to function? 

“Hi, Keith,” he greeted him, but it sounded like a question. 

“Uh, hey,” Keith was scratching the back of his neck. Again. “I was just...” he gestured to the dance floor, and Lance’s lips turned upwards. He’d noticed now up close that Lance was just a little bit taller than him. How hadn’t he noticed this before, was it a recent thing? 

“Yeah,” Lance prompted. 

“Do you, I dunno, maybe want to dance with me. It’s just everyone else is doing it, and this is the first decent song they’ve played all night. So like, why not?” 

Real eloquent, Keith. 

Lance’s eyes danced with an emotion Keith couldn’t quite place. 

“Sure,” he grinned, “why not?” 

He took Keith’s hand in his own, and lead the way to the centre of the dance floor. Keith looked down, their fingers were loosely intertwined. His hands were soft, small. They were dotted with freckles. 

He spun around to face Keith, they were chest to chest. Keith really couldn’t breathe. 

“Do you actually know how to dance?” Lance asked, clearly amused. 

“I know the macarena,” Keith shrugged. 

“The maca-whatta?” 

“Seriously?” Keith laughed, “Christ, you purebloods are so deprived.” The beat of song was a little faster than the actual Macarena, but Keith could work with it. He stretched his arms out in front of him, and turned them over to the rhythm. He was murmuring the lyrics. 

“What the actual...” Lance giggled, and began to copy him. 

“Yeah, that’s it. And then you put your hands on your hips and go ‘hey Macarena!’” 

Lance burst out laughing, “sorry, I didn’t catch that. You go what now?” 

Keith’s face reddened, “fine, if you’re not interested in muggle traditions.” 

“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” Lance mock-shoved him. 

He realised how much he liked this, whatever this was. He liked teasing Lance and he liked it when Lance retaliated. He never had to force a laugh at Lance’s jokes, because they were always funny. He liked making Lance blush, and whenever they got too close his heart sped up. But it also felt right, like they were made to fit together. Christ, this would sound stupid if Lance didn’t feel the same. 

He hoped Lance felt the same. 

 

[LANCE] 

Keith must feel the same. 

If not, what was the point of all that flirting. Unless they weren’t flirting, and this was just banter. Just guys being dudes. But, if Lance really thought that, then he wouldn’t grab Keith’s hand, and lead him away from the dance floor. He wouldn’t give him a secret smile as he led him out of the Great Hall, and they ran one after the other along the passageways in the dark. He wouldn’t think about how wonderful it would be to catch him by his waist and kiss him right now. 

“Where are we going?” Keith whispered. 

“Somewhere.” 

“Oh, okay, that clears things up.” Lance tugged on Keith’s fingers, which were still loosely hanging off his own. Keith fell into him a little, and Lance gestured out into the courtyard, where it had begun to snow. 

“Remember?” He grinned, though he wasn’t sure it was visible in the moonlight. 

“Of course,” Keith said, but it was more genuine. More serious. “You were so bright here.” 

Lance sat down, leaning against the pillars, “what do you mean?” 

“You just... you shone without thinking about it, you were almost too bright.” Keith wasn’t looking at him, but at out the sheet of snow. The white was reflected in his eyes. “I was so taken aback by you at first, I wasn’t sure you were entirely real.” 

“And then you got to know me,” Lance finished, it was meant to be a joke. It didn’t sound much like one. 

“Don’t do that, Lance.” 

“What?” 

“Put yourself down like that,” Keith was so sincere, Lance was kind of shocked. “Once I got to know you, and I saw that you had so much stuff going on, and you still shone. You’ve always shone, Lance. I just got used to it.” 

Lance swallowed, “how am I supposed to respond to that?” 

Keith shrugged, “maybe don’t. I just wanted to get it out, I guess.” 

“But I have stuff about you as well,” Lance insisted, “Jesus Christ, too much to say out loud. But I want... I want you to know that you’re so important to me too.” 

“I know.” 

“But you can talk to me... about stuff,” he didn’t want to outright say it, and Keith didn’t either. 

“I know, but thanks.” 

“Keith?” 

“Yeah?” 

“How do you deal with it?” 

Keith turned to him, his eyes wide and dazed. They were sparkling, they were the same grey Lance had known for the past four years and they were sparkling like mad. His mouth looked like it turned up at the corner. “You,” he said, “people like you. Who make me happy.” 

“I make you happy?” 

Keith burst out laughing, “yes, you idiot.” 

“But, you still get sad...?” 

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Shiro said to me that I should take the happiness as it comes, because I’m going to be sad later. You’re one of the people that make me happy, so I like being around you.” 

Lance felt his cheeks heat up. 

He really thought he might kiss Keith then. He was so close, and their hands were touching. He looked almost magical in the moonlight, and he suddenly understood what Keith said about him thinking that he might not be real. He felt his heart beating (or was that Keith’s?) and he moved a fraction closer. Every single possible thought that he could think ran through his head. But here he was. And he was going to kiss Keith Kogane. The last thing he thought was ’finally’. 

“Lance McClain?” 

Lance’s head snapped up, Professor Coran from herbology? What the actual hell? 

“Yeah?” 

“I’ve been asked to escort you off the premises.” 

Lance and Keith looked at each other, sharing an expression of confusion. And a little bit of fear. 

“What? Why?” Lance blustered. 

“Apparently,” Professor Coran rubbed his forehead, “you are no longer a student at Hogwarts.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh wow,,  
> i really got caught up in writing this chapter, so i hope you enjoyed reading it as much.  
> (im sorry too lmao)  
> comments and kudos are always much appreciated!  
> twitter: @thankskelley  
> points if u got the amazing world of gumball reference


	10. Sacrifices and Goodbyes

[KEITH]

Keith’s body went completely hollow.

Lance began stammering, a string of ‘wait’s and ‘but’s that barely sounded coherent. Lance loved it here, he wasn’t like Keith, he was passionate about this, about magic. If anyone was going to be forced to leave, it should be Keith. 

“I’m sorry, Lance,” Professor Coran said, sounding genuinely apologetic, “your parents have called for your removal, they’ve demanded it.”

“What?” Lance exploded, “wait—wait, WHAT?”

“Lance—”

“You can’t just… obey them like that,” he objected, “you know that this is the reason they think they can do whatever they want, right? Because you guys will just lie there while they walk all over you!”

Coran flinched, “this was not my decision to make.”

Keith gently tugged on Lance’s sleeve, “Lance, come on, maybe—”

Lance spun around, his eyes glistening. “Maybe what? Maybe if I get on my knees and grovel my parents will let me back in the house? I don’t have anywhere to go, Keith!” 

“We just need to talk abo—”

He was cut off again, “no, no. What… what I need is to see my sister,” he looked to Coran again, “where’s Veronica?”

“She’s in Professor Alfor’s office, I can take you to her,” he offered, “she has also been… removed from the school records.”

“Jesus Christ,” Lance was rubbing his temples, “what the hell are we going to do? She’s supposed to take her NEWTS this year. How… how the bloody hell is she going to get a job without her NEWTS? Th—this isn’t fair!”

Keith watched him unravel, feeling more helpless than ever. He knew if he tried to interject, Lance would cut him off again. This must be what it was like last year, when Keith went off. This is how everyone else must have felt, watching Keith burn his bridges. God, he felt so guilty. Useless and guilty. 

“You can visit Professor Alfor before you leave, I believe your belongings are in his office too.”

Lance scowled, blue eyes angry and terrified. He pushed past Coran and made his way to the office. 

Keith wanted to say something, he wanted to make it better. He wanted to undo everything that just happened. But he didn’t, instead he just watched him go. 

 

[LANCE]

“Lance,” came Veronica’s relieved voice as Lance burst through the door.

Professor Alfor’s office was the grandest room in the building, in Lance’s opinion. It was shaped like an egg, the ceiling high with an orb-like crystal light hovering above the centre of the room. Nearing Alfor’s desk, two staircases led to a balcony-like level wrapping itself around the walls, lined with dark-wood overflowing bookshelves. The whole room was warm, the same colour as the pages of a vintage storybook. All looming windows and maps plastered over the yellow-y walls. However, it didn’t offer Lance any comfort.

“Would you mind explaining what the actual hell is happening?” He demanded.

Professor Alfor bristled. He was a kind man, but he had dignity, and didn’t appreciate being spoken to in such a vulgar way. He was attractive, or at least he would have been. The creases of all happiness and worry he’d felt in his life had just begun to show. His hair was snow-white, and a well-kept beard obscured the bottom half of his face. 

“Lance,” he sighed, “you and Veronica are valued members of the school…”

Lance scoffed, he couldn’t help it. 

Alfor ignored him, “but, well, you know how powerful your parents are. They’ve threatened this school with financial ruin, and… if it were any other family, I’d call their bluff. But the McClains follow through, you know that better than anyone.”

“You realise this is exactly why they can do whatever they want, because the yellow-bellied professors are too afraid to call them out on it.”

“I agree that this is a step too far on your family’s behalf, but there is nothing we can do. We don’t have any kind of advantage in this situation. If we did, believe you me, we would have used it by now,” Professor Alfor gave Lance a sad smile, “you must pick and choose your battles, my boy. This is one we cannot win, not right now.”

Lance really felt like he might cry.

“But what are we supposed to do?” Veronica asked, her voice trembling, “we can’t go back there, hell, I won’t go back there. But we don’t have anywhere else, where do we live?”

“Hogwarts has arranged temporary accommodation; a year’s rent has been paid for a flat in Northern England. After that…”

“We’re on our own, is that it?” Veronica finished, quietly.

“I’m so sorry,” Professor Alfor muttered, “I wish there were more we could do.”

“We’re too young,” she tried, there were tears in Veronica’s eyes now. “I don’t know how to do this, I’m not ready. It’s not fair!”

Lance gulped down a sob.

Professor Alfor let out a deep sigh, it sounded like he’d been holding his breath. “I’m going to have to ask you not to use magic in any way in the muggle world.”

“So… so we’re not wizards anymore,” Lance summarised, “we’ve been kicked out.”

“We trust you enough not to obliviate you,” Alfor said, his face pained.

“Oh, well thank you for that,” Lance’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “We’re in your debt.”

“What…” Veronica cleared her throat, “what if another guardian paid for Lance’s education, what if someone else enrolled him?”

Alfor’s eyes flashed with understanding, Lance felt out of the loop. 

“What?” He asked, “what do you mean?”

“Veronica, you don’t have to…”

“Yes I do,” Veronica said, “I owe him this much. I wasn’t there before, I need to be here now.” Her blue eyes shifted to Lance, who was waiting for an explanation. 

“Once I turn eighteen,” she began, “I imagine I’ll be able to register as your legal guardian, if mum and dad are okay with it. I can’t imagine why not, if we’re such embarrassments to them. If I get a job, and dip into my savings a little. A lot. I mean, we’ll be scraping by, but we might be able to get you back into Hogwarts for next year.”

Lance’s heart began beating. Hard.

“That’s…” what? He was torn. He was torn between what he wanted for his sister and what he wanted for himself. “No, no. I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking me to, I’m offering,” she corrected. Her eyes were sadder than he’d ever seen them. 

“What about you?” Lance asked, “what about magic? You’ve wanted to be an Auror your entire life…”

“Well, maybe it’s time I expanded my horizons a little,” she smiled, the tears in her eyes spilled over and slipped down her cheeks in smooth rivulets. “I mean, I hear the muggle world is fascinating.”

Lance choked out a sob, “I’m so sorry.”

She walked to him, enveloping him in her arms, she squeezed him so hard he forgot to breathe. “I want to do this, Lance. I want to do it for you.”

“This is my fault,” he cried into her shoulder.

“No, it’s their fault. It’s their fault for using their money and power and influence to ruin our lives. But we’re not going to let them, okay?” They broke apart, and she gave Lance’s shoulder a little squeeze. “We’re not giving them the power to do that, this will be a hurdle, sure. But that just means we’ve gotta soar, we’ve gotta soar right over it.”

Alfor cleared his throat, Lance had forgotten he was there. “Veronica, you will not be forgotten at Hogwarts,” he sounded genuine, “you are truly one of the most honourable witches I have ever met, I’m sorry.”

Veronica gave him a dignified nod. She was wearing a pale blue ballgown, tears dripping off her chin. Somehow, she’d never looked more magical.

“Lance,” he said, and Lance’s head snapped up, “I hope to see you next September.”

 

As they reached the courtyard once again, Lance bumped into his friends. 

“Lance!” Allura cried, hugging him tightly. “You’re not leaving, right? They can’t do that… please tell me they can’t do that.”

“Buddy,” Hunk said gently, “please. Please don’t go.”

Lance gave them a small smile, “I don’t know right now. If everything goes okay, I’ll be back next year. But, then again, who knows? I mean, I never expected to be here on Christmas Day.”

“You have to promise to come back,” Pidge insisted, “we need you here.”

“We do,” Romelle agreed, “oh gosh, this is terrible.”

Lance felt tears rising, Jesus Christ this was quite a day for tears. “I promise, I promise.”

He looked at Keith, who was at the back of the group. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks were red, he’d definitely been crying. He scratched his nose and gave Lance a lopsided smile. 

Lance wasn’t quite sure what he expected, but the next thing he knew, Keith’s arms were wrapped around his shoulders, his face buried in his shoulder. He smelled like the night air mixed with that ‘new clothes’ scent. Lance’s face heated, but he didn’t shy away, wrapping his arms around Keith’s waist and holding him tightly. God, he didn’t want to leave. Not like this, not knowing if he’d ever come back. 

They broke apart, Lance looking into Keith’s bloodshot eyes. The pupils were so wide. His arms dropped down, so that his right hand was holding Lance’s left. He held it loose for a moment. 

“Come back home,” Keith whispered, his voiced sounded strangled. Broken.

Lance opened mouth, but nothing came out. 

“Lance,” Veronica looked to him, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but the taxi is here.”

He gave Keith one more meaningful look, but he couldn’t summon the correct words. Instead, he gave Keith’s hand a reassuring squeeze. 

Then he broke away from the group, giving them all one last smile. “I love you guys,” he told them.

“Love you too!” Allura called as he ran down the steps to cat h up with Veronica, he heard similar replies from the others. Nothing from Keith. 

Lance and Veronica fell into step, “that’s your family, then?”

“Yep,” he said, without hesitation.

“Do you reckon I’ll ever be able to earn my brother back?”

He looked at her incredulously, “are you kidding me? V, you just… you gave up everything for me, and then you did it again,” he chuckled, “if anything, I’m in your debt.”

Lance opened the taxi door for her, and she slid along the seats. The driver seemed to know where they were going, so as soon as Lance had buckled himself up, he hit the gas and they were zooming along the quiet Scottish roads.

Veronica lay her head on his shoulder, and she murmured “let’s call it even.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woahhh emotion  
> also veronica is a queen  
> this is the last chapter of fourth year, moving onto fifth year ahh this fic is going so fast,,  
> leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed, or if u just want to yell at me i understand.  
> twitter: @thankskelley


	11. DJing Disputes

Year Five  
[KEITH]

It was sunny for September.

Keith lay on his bed, watching the glinting dust particles float lazily through the beams of light shining through the crack in his curtains.

His phone lolled in his hand, and he hated how excited he got when he heard the signature ‘ding’ of a new text. Maybe, finally, he’d gotten a text from Lance. Maybe the elusive McClain had texted him back. 

Nope, it was Pidge. 

‘My brother spilled green paint on my cloak. Avada Kedavra if you laugh.’

Keith smiled a little, and then he threw his head back against his mattress. He felt sick with nerves, he hated this feeling. He hadn’t heard from Lance since he left last year, neither had any of the others. Hell, he might be dead. They had no clue whether or not he was coming back. The uncertainty made Keith anxious.

Hogwarts wasn’t his least favourite place in the world (that title went to Pidge’s brother’s room… Jesus, he shoved that memory to the back of his mind where it belonged), but he knew he’d like it significantly less if Lance was absent. He just… he lit things up, he enhanced everything, every experience. Ever since Lance had come into his life, it was like someone had turned up the saturation filter, everything was so much more vivid.

He liked being here too, though. Being at home was another thing that helped Keith stay away from the ugly parts of his mind. He liked the familiarity of the smell, how Shiro and Adam were always, always there to talk to. He liked how he could watch cartoons in his PJs with no one telling him it was inappropriate (the occasional tut from Shiro, but most of the time Adam joined in). He always helped them cook, and Keith realized he also liked cooking a lot. He’d gotten better over the summer, he revisited the muffins Adam had taught him how to make a couple of years ago. Wasn’t nearly as disastrous, Shiro even asked for seconds. He’d been talking to Hunk a little about it, Hunk was more into the culinary arts whereas Keith just liked baking. He liked decorating cakes, especially. It was so delicate and intricate, but Keith was good at it, making little roses from fondant icing and mixing all the colours of the rainbow into a batter. He liked making beautiful things, he liked making people happy. He hadn’t realised that before.

“Knock, knock,” Shiro said, gently. “All right?”

Keith sat up, “I think so.”

“That’s good,” Shiro smiled, he approached Keith and sat on the bed with him, the mattress sinking because of the extra weight. “You’re getting a lot better with going to Hogwarts.”

“You think?” Keith met his eyes, “I don’t know, magic just… it still hasn’t clicked with me.”

“Hey, that’s okay, you had a great opportunity and you took it. That doesn’t mean magic has to consume your life. As long as your happy at Hogwarts.”

Keith nodded, “I think I am,” he said, “I mean, my friends make me happy. And the whole community feel is nice.”

“See?” Shiro grinned, “I’m glad. It’s important you surround yourself with the things that make you happy.”

“Like you?”

Shiro shrugged, “well, I guess. You make me happy, Adam makes me happy, you and Adam baking together makes me happy,” Keith smiled, Shiro began counting things off on his fingers, “Matt and Pidge, Doctor Who reruns, The Amazing World of Gumball reruns, martial arts… there are a lot of things that make me happy.”

“You look like you’re always smiling, sometimes…” Keith swallowed, “you’re allowed to be sad, too, you know?”

Shiro focused his gaze in his lap, “I do have bad days. I cry a lot, and I think I’m always asking myself why I didn’t do more? Why I couldn’t save them, because I felt, well, I feel like that was down to me,” he took a deep breath and looked at Keith, “but I always force myself to talk about it, to Adam, to Matt, to you. It’s better to have it out there, rather than growing and growing in my head until I do something I regret.”

“I wish I was here more, for you, I mean.”

Shiro put an arm around Keith and pulled him into a side-hug. He was warm, and Keith put both arms around him. They didn’t hug often. “I’m not your responsibility, Keith. You are here for me, a lot more than I think you realise. But I don’t want to hold you back either, you have your own stuff to do, you know what I mean?”

Keith nodded earnestly, “I think I do.”

“Well, good,” Shiro got up and stretched. “I hope you’re ready for eight hours of musical theatre, Adam is DJing on the drive up.”

“What?” Keith cried, “no! No, Shiro! Why do you give him these responsibilities?”

“Because I tell him no, and then he looks at me and his eyes are all big and brown and sad and I’m like ‘aw, hell. How bad can it be?’”

“Bad, Shiro, very, VERY bad.”

Shiro laughed, “you sure you don’t know any spells to make time go faster? I’m not sure I can survive at trip up to Scotland with nonstop Les Mis.”

“I can hear you, Takashi,” came Adam’s annoyed voice from downstairs, “you two have no taste.”

“Is that what you call listening to songs that weren’t taken from a Broadway show?” Keith retorted.

Adam let out a chuckle as Keith made his way down the stairs, “oh, excuse me, Mr. When-I-Was-A-Young-Boy. Finally acknowledging there are artists outside MCR, now are we?”

“Shut up, Gerard could run you over with a pick-up truck and you’d thank him,” Keith smirked, Adam raised hands in mock defeat.

“You’ve got me there.”

They continued to bicker as the got into the car, Adam riding in shotgun despite Keith’s protests (‘that man CANNOT be trusted with a CD player!’). Only once Adam cranked the volume on the first track from Hamilton did they shut up. Keith hated to admit how good it was. He put on an overly dramatic display of hating it, but it was clear Adam saw right through him.

Another year. Keith took a deep breath.

He could do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sibling relationships are my jam.  
> sorry this is really short, but i wanted to put out a chapter today and keith's povs tend to be a little more concise.  
> leave a comment or kudos if u feel like it!  
> twitter: @thankskelley  
> (i feel like u can tell exactly what kind of person i am from the music and tv shows i mention in this fic)


	12. The Comfort of a Simple Cup of Tea

[LANCE]

Lance sat, fingers hovering over the strings.

He’d been taking guitar lessons for a couple of months now, and he felt like he was getting the hang of it. It was Veronica’s guitar, but she’d gifted it to him because she was just too busy to play it anymore. Veronica had been working any job she could get the past six months, trying to pay for food and saving up for Lance’s year at Hogwarts. Every time he thought about that, his insides felt all hollow and mixed up. He did try to help out as much as he could, but he couldn’t seem to get anything more than paperboy jobs, which never lasted long.

The flat was a lot smaller than he was used to, two bedrooms, a bathroom and a common area. They had a small TV, which he was grateful for, but he’d sold his phone to help pay for the rest of the furnishings. It was worth more than he realised, but Lance must have taken those things for granted when they were just handed to him left and right. He sank into the beige couch, resting his chin on the neck of the guitar. It was a nice one, looked expensive, maybe he should offer to sell it. Having anything costly made him feel guilty, but Veronica never complained. That was just Veronica.

“Hey, hey,” she smiled, handing him a cup of tea. They’d had a lot of tea over the ten months they’d lived alone, it wasn’t like the fancy teas he’d had back at the mansion, teas with ‘undertones of raspberry and peach’. Normal tea was more comforting. “How’re you doing?”

“Pretty good,” he shrugged, “I think Red misses Hogwarts.”

There was a squawk from Lance’s bedroom, followed by the clanging of his claws against the cage. 

“Yeah,” Veronica grinned, “and I’ll bet he’s not the only one.”

“Mmm, okay,” Lance conceded, “I guess I miss it a little bit. Not the early mornings though. I’ve been doing great without those.”

“It was nice of Prof. Coran to send you that summer work.”

“I’m not sure ‘nice’ is the term I’d use,” he huffed, recalling the time he opened the door to a box filled with mountains of textbooks and past papers. “I’m going to be so behind, pretty much kissing my perfect OWL grades goodbye.”

“Lance, you’ll be fine, you’re smarter than you give yourself credit for,” she bumped his shoulder, “and, now you have a whole lot of work experience in the muggle world.”

“That’s not exactly something I’d brag about,” Lance slouched, the acoustic sound of the strings ringing out into the comfortable silence, “muggle work is hard,” he whined.

“Seriously,” Veronica agreed, “everything would be so much easier if I could just use magic, but muggles have been doing that their whole lives. I have a certain amount of respect for that.”

Lance thought about Keith and Pidge, who had no clue magic even existed until they were ten-years-old. They’d been doing things the hard way pretty much their whole lives, for them, everything about magic was new and exciting. Lance was a bit jealous of that, he wished he didn’t rely on magic as heavily as them, but in his home, magic had been encouraged for pretty much everything. The more you used it, the stronger you got, or that was the mentality anyway. But once magic had been swept out from under him, Lance realised he had no clue how to live without it. That was so weak. 

Speaking of Keith, he hadn’t heard from him in almost a year. He’d written him using the magical pieces of paper Pidge had spelled, but no reply. Lance was trying not to read too much into it, but he couldn’t help but think that he’d done something wrong. Maybe leaving in itself hurt him, but he’d hoped Keith would see that he’d really no choice in the matter. The thing was, before Coran interrupted them, Lance was pretty sure Keith was about to kiss him, or he was about to kiss Keith. Either way, it seemed like Keith was A-Okay with the whole concept of kissing Lance. Lance worried that the ten-month break would drive a wedge in their potential relationship. Or maybe he was just getting his wires crossed. Wouldn’t be the first time.

“Lance, you okay?”

“Hm? Oh, oh yeah.” He replied, giving her a smile, “just thinking about the others. Haven’t seen them in so long, you know?”

“They seemed like a nice bunch,” Veronica nodded, “you know, from the brief interaction I saw when we left. That Keith guy seemed sweet.”

Lance’s face heated up and he sank further into the couch, “I haven’t heard from him at all, I think he might be mad at me.”

Veronica chuckled, “for what? Leaving?”

“I don’t know!” Lance threw his hands in the air, “I thought girls were complicated.”

“So, is he gay? Or bi or whatever?” Veronica pushed, Lance found that he wanted to confide in her, similar to Allura.

“No clue, the guy’s a mystery. A mystery with a mullet.”

“I can’t believe you like someone with a mullet,” Veronica giggled.

“Neither can I, I thought I had better taste,” Lance smiled, “but I’ve never seen him pull the moves on anyone. Girl, guy or otherwise.”

“Pull the moves?”

“Shut up,” he threw a cushion at her, which she expertly caught. “Pidge said he liked someone back in third year, but that could have been anyone.”

Veronica tossed the cushion back to him, “third year? Just how long have you liked this guy.”

Lance hid his face in its fabric, the loose feathers poking into his cheeks, “maybe, like, second year.”

Veronica let out a prolonged ‘damn’. 

“I know!” Lance complained, “and every time I think, oh it’s just me, there’s nothing here, BAM! He does something super sweet and kind of romantic and I’m like, how do I interpret this?”

“Dude,” Veronica put a hand on his shoulder, “mate, my little bro and technically my child—”

“Stop, no,” he cut her off, “just because you’re my legal guardian doesn’t mean I’m your child. You’d have to have birthed me at like, four.”

“Ew, don’t say birthed,” she scrunched up her nose. “And don’t interrupt me when I’m giving you advice, I was going to say; you should just say to him that you’re interested in him romantic-style. If he is too, cool, if he isn’t, at least you’re not driving yourself crazy thinking about it all the time.”

“It makes sense when you say it!” Lance exclaimed, “but I’d just end up overthinking it, freaking out, short-fusing and scaring him off.”

“You gotta be more confident in yourself,” Veronica shrugged.

“Huh, really. You know, I’d never thought of it that way before,” Lance rolled his eyes. “And besides, if he said he wasn’t interested, that would hurt. A lot. I don’t know if I’m prepared to deal with that.”

“That’s part of the deal with loving someone,” she said, “you’re vulnerable, and you have to risk getting hurt. If not, well, it wouldn’t be any fun, would it,” she patted his leg. “Now, get your skates on, the taxi will be here soon.”

“Oh no,” Lance moaned, “not another taxi. The magical ones always make me feel sick, they go so fast!”

“Well, sorry, but it’s my day off and I’m not spending it driving you up to Scotland.”

Lance let out a ‘hmph’ as he went to fetch Red, he knew better than to complain after all Veronica had done. 

Being honest, huh? He rolled the idea back and forth in his mind a little. He really didn’t know if he was prepared to deal with the prospect of Keith not liking him back. But if he continued like this, he might just drive himself insane. He didn’t want to spend any more time theorising and wishing, but he was so terrified. Jesus Christ, if only they covered this in school. 

He picked up his guitar and his owl, while Veronica helped him with his suitcase.

Another year. Lance took a deep breath.

He’d have to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more sibling stuff bc i need it to survive.  
> sorry the chapters recently have been a little short, i want to keep updating frequently, but the next chapter will hopefully be little bit longer   
> kudos and comments are always much appreciated!  
> twitter: @thankskelley  
> (lance playing the guitar is the only hc that matters to me anymore)


	13. Green Batman

[LANCE]

After setting up camp in his dorm, Lance made his way to the common room.

Allura was there, already dressed in her school robes, hunched over a thick hardback book. Her shoulders were bunched up around her neck and her azure eyes were laser focused on the text. Her hair was shorter, instead of touching upon her lower back like it used to, it barely reached her shoulders. It was cute, surprising, but cute. 

She must have sensed him, because she looked up, irritated.

“I told you, I really don—”

“Hi, Allura,” he smiled.

Her mouth dropped open and her book smacked against the table. “Lance?”

He opened his arms, sheepishly awaiting a hug. 

She practically flew into them, her familiar scent shrouding his senses. He put a hand on her head as she began to quiver, crying. This felt like home. This was home. 

Through her sobs he made out something along the lines of ‘you came back’.

“I said I would, didn’t I?” They broke apart, he was taller than her now, by quite a bit. He placed both hands on her shoulders. “I think you’ll find it isn’t so easy to get rid of me.”

“I didn’t… I wasn’t sure…” Allura stammered, and then took a deep breath, “how?”

“Veronica registered as my legal guardian, she’s the one who’s paying for my tuition now.”

Allura pondered this, “your parents were okay with that?”

Lance grimaced, recalling the long, arduous process of getting his parents to sign him over to Veronica. “Not at first,” he admitted, “you know when you’re a kid and you have this toy that you never play with, but as soon as someone else wants it… it’s like it goes up in value, or something?”

She nodded.

“That’s how they treated the whole situation, me being the toy.” He sighed, “but, once they saw that relinquishing me and Veronica from the family tree would provide them with the opportunity to pretend that we never happened, thus neatly brushing all the public embarrassment under the carpet, well, they couldn’t wait to sign the forms.” Lance gave Allura a small smile, “my parents really are the best.”

“Lance…” Allura placed a hand on his shoulder, “I… I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I might not be as well off now, but at least I can be me.”

“We were so worried,” she muttered, “why… why didn’t you contact us? Any of us?”

“I tried!” Lance insisted, “I wrote to Keith a couple of times using those magical paper thingies Pidge gave us.”

“Lance!” Allura groaned, but with her posh accent it came out more like ‘Lonce’, “no one has used those since, what, third year? Keith probably threw it out.” He felt his heart sink, “why didn’t you just text us?”

“I had to sell my phone to help buy stuff for the flat.”

“And you didn’t think to tell us, give us a bit of warning?”

Lance let out a moan, burying his face in his hand, “God, I’m an idiot.”

Allura laughed, “a little bit of one, yeah. But so is everyone, so it’s fine.”

He’d missed this, the little Allura-isms and shared smiles between the two of them. He’d missed hanging out in the common room, studying together. And Lance hated studying. 

“What are you doing in here anyway?” Lance asked, “isn’t there that orientation thing going on in the Great Hall?”

“I’m not in the mood to cheer for eleven-year-olds when an enchanted hat tells them they’re smart,” Allura said, “no one really means it when they cheer, it’s more of a polite cheer.”

“Oh, well now I feel bad about my sorting.”

Allura shrugged, “well, none of us knew you, and the majority of first years are kind of annoying. Present company excluded. You were a pretty great first year.”

He grinned, “thanks.”

 

[KEITH]

He’d thought Pidge had meant a little bit of green paint, a splash at the end of their cloak. 

They looked like they’d torn a green-screen curtain from a movie set and donned it as a cape. It was almost blinding, Keith still couldn’t look directly at it for too long or he’d get a migraine.

“I don’t see how this could have happened accidentally,” Keith said, “yeah, maybe the first few splashes were an accident, but you can’t pour an entire coat of green paint on a cloak, covering it evenly.”

“You are underestimating Matt’s clumsiness,” Pidge sighed. 

“What were you even using the paint for? That has to be the ugliest colour I’ve ever seen.”

“Excuse you,” Pidge smirked, “we were painting aliens on Matt’s wall.”

“What? Why?”

They shrugged, “aliens are cool.”

“Why was your cloak in Matt’s room?”

“Because,” they began, clearly getting tired of the questions, “he was wearing it as a cape. Trying to win an argument.”

If anything, Keith was more confused now than he was before, “what argument?”

“I said that, if anything, Batman’s cape would hinder him because he’s meant to be a master of stealth and power, and surely if you’re in the middle of kicking someone’s ass it’s inconvenient to have a piece of loose fabric behind you that you can potentially get caught in,” they took a breath, “but he was saying that the cape is and essential part of the look and it isn’t that inconvenient. So I bet him he couldn’t do all the things Batman does while wearing a cape.”

Keith swallowed, “okay.”

“He was doing great until he tried to climb up the wall and fell smack into the paint tins.”

“Your family never ceases to astound me.”

They took a seat in the courtyard, surrounded by wide-eyed first years and the older kids pushing past them. The took a seat against a tree, the ground was dry enough seeing as the summer weather seemed to be clinging on as long as possible.

“So,” Pidge raised their eyebrows, “seen Lance yet?”

“Yeah,” Keith lent into the tree, “he’s back.”

“You don’t seem massively ecstatic about that? What happened?”

“I bumped into him before,” Keith said, “but he was all… I don’t know, weird. We were going to different classes, so I didn’t say much, just a ‘hey, Lance, you’re back!’. He didn’t even look at me, kept his eyes on the ground and carried on walking.”

“That is weird,” Pidge concurred.

“Right?” Keith carried on, “not a word for almost a year and then he comes back and acts like an arsehole, you’d think I’d done something.”

They gave him a skeptical look, “have you done something?”

He was aghast, “what? No! No, Pidge, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

“Let’s be honest, though” Pidge shrugged, “when you have done something, you’re usually the last to know. I love you, but you’re the least self-aware person I’ve ever met.”

“Really, I haven’t,” Keith insisted, nodding, “I texted him a couple of times, no reply. Other than that,” he made a cut-off motion with his hand, “no interaction.”

“What did the text say?”

He rolled his eyes, “something like ‘hey, sorry for the lack of contact, school has been mad, how are you?’, and the rest were all ‘hi’.”

“Well, that’s all pretty inoffensive,” Pidge looked puzzled. “Huh, maybe he just didn’t notice you?”

“Maybe,” Keith muttered thoughtfully, “but I was pretty loud.”

“Oh, well,” Pidge said, suddenly, smacking him on the arm, “you can ask him, have a look.”

Lance was sitting against one of the other trees in the courtyard, Allura next to him and another girl Keith vaguely recognised. Lance was smiling at her in a way that made Keith’s chest inflame, his fists clench involuntarily. A guitar was nestled in his lap, the long wooden neck resting easily in the palm of his hand. Since when does he know guitar, Keith thought angrily. He felt so out of the loop, it wasn’t like Lance to leave him out like this. He was so confused.

“You’d think they would invite us over,” Pidge pointed out.

“We don’t need an invite,” with that, Keith got up, marching over there to find out what the hell was going on.

 

[LANCE]

He was coming over. Don’t panic. Do not panic.

Why was it always like this? Lance waiting for Keith to make his move? Why couldn’t Lance ever take charge of his own life for once?

He looked angry, he looked confused and a little bit upset. God, this was like the moment Lance realised he’d misjudged the number of stairs on the staircase. The brief paralytic fear as his foot flew through the air, trying to find ground that wasn’t there. He swallowed.

Nyma sat next to him, she was pretty. Hell, she knew it too. He wasn’t quite sure why the Slytherin had insisted on hanging out with him and Allura, but he was sure he shouldn’t take it at face value. Maybe if he subtly mentioned his super rich family had emancipated him she’d be much less interested. Her arm was draped over his shoulder, and as much as he hated it, he felt a tingle of pride that a girl this pretty was spending time with him. Looking at him like he was a gift to the world. 

“Hello Lance, Allura,” Keith greeted them curtly, ignoring Nyma. She scowled, she clearly didn’t like being ignored.

“Hi, Keith, good summer?” Allura replied.

Lance avoided his eyes.

“Yeah, nice enough, you?”

“Pretty good,” she smiled politely.

“Lance?”

“Hi,” he wasn’t sure why he was doing his best to distance himself from Keith, but with the whirlwind going on in his head, being near Keith was like adding a tsunami to the mix. He had so much to work out and being near the catalyst of all this confusion just… set him off.

“I didn’t hear from you all summer,” Keith tried again, his voice beginning to get testy.

Allura jumped in quickly, “he had to sell his phone.”

“You could have told me.”

Lance shrugged, “I’m an idiot.”

“Have I done something?”

His head snapped up. Oh, this was going horribly, horribly wrong. “I… no, I just… I have a lot going on right now. Sorry, I’m not all here.”

“I…” Keith’s voice was a lot gentler. “I could help. You could talk to me.”

Lance worried his lip, unsure of what to say. He could feel Nyma’s lavender eyes surveying him, seeing what he would say next. Jesus… Jesus Christ there were too many eyes on him right now. He began to feel hot under his collar, his palms sweating. This was panicking. This was what he wanted to avoid, goddammit. 

“Lance,” his voice was pleading, “I don’t know what to do.”

Lance’s eyes began to sting. Here they were in the courtyard, a place that had meant so much to them over the years, it was their space. Where they met, where Lance had almost kissed him, and he was pretty sure Keith almost kissed him back. And now… well, he wasn’t sure what was happening now.

He looked up at Keith for the first time, the cold sun forming a bright halo around his head. Lance squinted. “I’m not asking you to do anything, Keith.”

Keith stood silent, the shock was palpable in the air.

“I’d… I’d like you to leave,” Lance muttered. And as soon as he said them, he knew the words weren’t his. They were the words of the creature inside him who was too scared to get hurt. The coward.

“What the hell did I do, Lance?” Keith demanded, “you can at least tell me that.”

“You haven’t done anything,” Lance said.

“Then why are you doing this?” He was on the verge of tears, his voice betraying him.

Lance wasn’t sure what to say.

 

[KEITH]

“Then why are you doing this?” He asked, his voice giving way to a wobble. 

Lance, his face twisted with an emotion Keith could barely describe, didn’t provide him with an answer.

His new friend, the one with the purple eyes, looked at Keith accusatorily. “You’re that kid who burned down the Hog’s Head a couple of years ago?” She sounded disgusted.

“Nyma,” Lance began, “don’t.”

“No, Lance,” Nyma stopped him, “I want to know why Mr. Pyro over here thinks he can pick fights with you.”

“I’ve known Lance for years,” Keith said, more defensively than he would have liked, “he doesn’t need a go-between or a translator or whatever you’re supposed to be.”

Nyma give him a pity laugh, “really? Because I’m pretty sure he told you to piss off.”

Keith looked to Lance, to see if he would object mainly. He found himself disappointed when he didn’t. 

“Why are you still here?” Nyma demanded.

“I want to see if he can speak for himself,” Keith explained, not taking his eyes off Lance, who hung his head lower. 

“Keith,” Lance began, his voice filled with a tangible despair, frustration. “I want you to leave. Please leave me alone.”

Keith had never felt so confused, what had he done? Why couldn’t Lance just tell him? He felt like he was going to burst, his head swirling. And he was dangerously close to crying, but he wasn’t about to give Nyma the pleasure.

“Go on,” she seemed to be egging him on, “go burn down another pub why don’t you?”

“Nyma,” Allura snapped, Keith was surprised to hear her talk. “Do you ever shut the hell up?”

Keith was glad someone else had told her, because he was certainly thinking it. He was, however, disappointed it didn’t come from Lance. Nyma sucked on her teeth, looking foully at the ground. 

There was an uncomfortable, anticipating silence as Keith waited for Lance to say something. To snap out of what he was going through, or to help Keith understand. Why couldn’t he just talk to Keith? 

Keith took a deep breath and gave Lance a sad look, “you never told me you played guitar.”

Then he turned around.

 

[LANCE]

Keith didn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well that could have gone better  
> sorry for this, but it is necessary for the ending,, keith and lance both need to work on trusting and listening to each other.  
> im still sorry tho lmao  
> leave kudos and a comment if u liked it or if u want to tell me how mad u are!  
> twitter: @thankskelley


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